


Peter Parker's Guide to Solving Mysteries

by amethystdragonnight



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Iron Dad, Iron dad and Spider son, Mystery, Spideychelle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2020-04-12 08:45:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 30,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystdragonnight/pseuds/amethystdragonnight
Summary: My name is Peter Parker. Twelve years ago, my parents walked out the door without a word of where they were going or why they couldn’t take me, and were killed. I’m sixteen now. I’m sick of unanswered questions. I’m going to find out what happened to Richard and Mary Parker. And I don’t care who knows I’m looking.





	1. The Briefcase

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another fic! I'm so grateful to all the readers of Point of No Return, my first long-form fic. This will be the second, this time exploring Peter's relationship with his birth parents, Richard and Mary Parker. That mystery always fascinated me, and it was why I liked the beginning of 2012 Amazing Spider-man, because it began to explore that mystery. I was always disappointed by the fact that the plot thread didn't really go anywhere, so I decided to take it into my own hands, but this time with Tom Holland's MCU Peter Parker, cause I like his character better. Anyway, enjoy!

I hesitantly reach out for another bite of May’s lasagna, taking it onto my fork. Should I risk eating it? At a glance, I see her watching from across the table. Shit. I shovel the food into my mouth, trying not to shudder. When will she learn that takeout is better? I guess she couldn’t help it though, given the person sitting on the third side of the table. I turn to take a glance at Mr. Stark. 

He’s cleared his plate already. Impossible. I look from him to his plate, making eye contact. He just raises his eyebrows and gives the tiniest smirk. I roll my eyes and turn back to May. “Sorry, what’d you say?” I ask. 

“I was just telling you not to go spidermanning after dinner, okay?” she says. “Tony only comes over once a month.” 

“Yeah, I know,” I say, taking a sip of my water. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t go out tonight,” Mr. Stark says. 

May grins. “Thanks, Tony.” 

I try not to roll my eyes again, instead turning back to my questionable food. It’s like they’re co-parenting. May’s a helicopter parent, and Mr. Stark is like a cool dad. Is he like my dad? The thought makes me a little excited. Wouldn’t that be awesome? I mean, it’s not like I remember my real dad. And Uncle Ben’s…gone. 

Mr. Stark leans forward, putting his elbows on the table. “What story were you going to tell about little Peter, May?” 

Oh, no. “Um, May?” I ask. “Please no?” 

She laughs and talks anyway. “So we were at some school supply store when he was going into kindergarten, right? Well, he liked to eat crayons back then.” 

Mr. Stark looks at me, and I put my head in my hands. 

May continues. “So he comes up to me with a packet of crayons, and says, ‘can we buy all of them except the blue ones?’” 

“Why the blue ones?” Mr. Stark asks with a chuckle. 

“He liked the yellow ones. The blue ones were too tart,” May says, dissolving into laughter. I look up at her, glaring. 

“Why would you tell him that story?” I hiss. 

“Hey, Pete, want me to get you some yellow crayons?” Mr. Stark says, barely containing his own laughter.

“Oh my god.” I slam my head into the table. “I hate you all.” 

May calms down, and says, “Okay, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

I straighten. “No,” I say with crossed arms. A smile still creeps its way onto my face, and she gives one back. 

“Okay, how about I give you a breather? Why don’t you go get that photo album from my room? The red one?” 

I frown. “You’re not talking about the one with my middle school pictures, are you?” 

“Please?” She sticks out her bottom lip. 

“Fine,” I groan, pushing back my chair. I walk around the table and just as I enter the hallway, Mr. Stark calls, 

“Thanks, Pete!” 

“You’re welcome,” I say back. The walk to May’s room takes barely any time at all, and in a minute I open the door. Her room is messy as always. It’s been that way since Ben died. He was always cleaning up, and now that he’s gone, there’s clothes everywhere, and the bed in the center of the room is unmade. I don’t even want to look inside the closet to my right. I smile. I like May’s messiness. Makes this place feel more like home than it already does. 

“Hey May?” I yell. “Where is it?” 

“Under the bed,” she calls to me. 

“Thanks,” I say loudly, then step over clothes until I’m beside the bed. Kneeling down, I glance underneath. God, it’s a mess down here. It’s like a tornado of shoes, clothes, photo albums, and…a briefcase? 

Wait, what? 

I pull it out, blowing on it to clear off dust. It’s a plain, brown leather briefcase with a buckle that reads: RP. 

RP? Who’s that? Ben’s initials are BP. So who…? 

The briefcase drops from my hands. RP. Richard Parker. My father. 

“Peter?” May’s voice reaches me, and I jump. Quickly I scan under the bed, finding the red photo album. I stand and walk to the door, but on impulse grab the briefcase. As I walk down the hall, I open my door and shove the briefcase inside, closing the door behind it. 

I reach May and Mr. Stark, holding out the photo album. May takes it from me with a smile that I return, but through a daze. That briefcase sticks in my mind. Where did it come from? How long has May had it? What’s in it? Damn, I forgot to check. 

She opens the book, and shows Mr. Stark a picture of me with braces. He laughs and points to another one of me and Ned, with MJ in the background. My heart skips a beat at the thought of my girlfriend, but my mind quickly returns to the case. 

May leads us all over to the couch, where we plop down. I sit in middle, with May on the right, and Mr. Stark on the left. 

“Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” she says, turning to the first page. It’s a picture of me, holding up a peace sign next to Midtown Tech’s front doors. “Aw, this was his first day of middle school. Isn’t he adorable?” 

Mr. Stark nods, and I sigh. This is going to be a long night. 

Still, I can’t help but wonder about that case. When Mr. Stark leaves, I’m going to look inside. 

I don’t have many memories of my parents. There’s a few images, but nothing clear. A smile here, a laugh there. Toys they gave me, maybe. What I know, I know from May. They walked out the door when I was four years old, and never came back. She says they died in a plane crash. I wonder where they were going. 

Oh, well. I can find out when I look tonight.


	2. A Mystery

After Mr. Stark leaves, I make my way back to my room. As soon as I open the door, my eyes find the case on the floor. I lean down to pick it up, holding its weight in my hands. How old is this thing? I wonder how long my dad had it. 

“Peter?” May asks from the door. I jump, and turn my head. 

“Um…hi?” 

She looks at me curiously, then at the case in my hands. Her hand goes to her mouth. 

“So you found it,” she says softly, dropping her hand. 

I nod. “Yeah.” 

She walks in and kneels down beside me. “That was your father’s. Richard’s.” 

“Mm-hm. I know.” 

She sighs and puts a hand on it. “I almost forgot I had that thing. It’s been down there since…well, since he and your mother…” 

“Oh.” 

She takes a deep breath through her nose. “Yeah.” 

“Hey May?” I say. 

She looks up. 

“I don’t really um… remember much. About them. Can you tell me?” 

A smile crosses her face. “Of course.” She crosses her legs and puts her hands on her knees. “Well…Richard and Mary were always busy. They were scientists. I like to think you got your interest in science from them. They were biologists. Geneticists, to be specific. They were the most hardworking people I knew. I never knew much about what they were doing, though. They never told me. Said it was top-secret government stuff.” 

“Government?” 

“Mm-hm. They worked for Oscorp, and you know Oscorp is close with the government.” 

“What were they like?” 

Her eyes soften, and she says, “Kind. I think that the biggest one. They wanted to help people, like you. They were diligent with their work, and loyal, especially with family. Richard was…dignified. Always wearing his glasses.” She chuckled. “He was a practical man, but a dreamer nonetheless. He wanted to make the world better, especially after you were born. Mary was the most empathetic person I ever met. She was sincere, and so smart. She never let Richard’s accomplishments overshadow hers. Together they were…unstoppable.” May leans back onto her hands, a soft smile on her face. “I miss them.” 

My eyes water, and my voice breaks as I say, “Me too.” 

“Oh, Pete.” She wraps her arms around me. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I wish they were here.” 

“Yeah.” I close my eyes and lean into her. I let myself wonder what it would be like if my mother was here, hugging me. What would that feel like? Would she be as warm as May? What would she smell like? Did she have a perfume? 

“Hey May?” I ask into her shoulder. 

“Yeah?” 

“What do you remember about the night they left?” 

She separates from me and sighs. “Not much, I’m afraid. They came over to our place, dropped you off, and then disappeared.” 

“Oh.” I bow my head. 

“It’s all in the past now, I suppose. I wish I could tell you where they went, but I don’t know. I—” 

“Wait, you don’t know where they were going?” 

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t.” 

“Oh…okay.” 

She hugs me again and says, “Well, you can look through the case if you want, okay? I’m going to be in the kitchen cleaning up.” She rises and walks out the door. 

I stare at the case, then set it down on the floor. The buckle takes no time at all to flip open, and in a moment I’ve dumped out the contents of the case onto the floor. 

It’s not much, and I’m kind of disappointed. There’s a pair of glasses, some papers, paperclips, pencils and pens, so standard office supplies. Something flutters out of the case as I shake it though, and I take it between two fingers. It’s a photograph, clipped from a newspaper. It’s a picture of two men, one with light blonde hair, and another with dark hair and glasses who looks strangely familiar. With a jolt, I realize that’s my dad. Richard Parker. They’re smiling in front of a blackboard covered with notes and diagrams. The caption reads: 

Dr. Curtis Connors (left) and Dr. Richard Parker (right) of Oscorp, standing before their ground-breaking research on cross-species genetics. 

The last three words send a chill down my spine. Cross-species genetics. I remember those words. But from where? 

Wait, on that trip to Oscorp, isn’t that what they said they were working on? Trying to put traits from one species into another? But wait…

That’s what happened to me. 

The picture drops from my hand. Still, something doesn’t make sense. May’s words from earlier are still in my mind. She said she didn’t know what happened to him and my mother. Could this picture be a clue? Maybe this Curtis Connors knows something. And maybe cross-species genetics has something to do with my parents’ deaths. 

Okay, that’s probably jumping to conclusions. Their research probably has nothing to do with it. But maybe Dr. Connors can at least tell me where they were going the night they disappeared. 

I rise to my feet, accidentally stepping on a paper from the briefcase. “Shit,” I mutter, reaching down for it. With curiosity, I realize it’s are shining, glossy like a photograph. When I turn it over, that’s exactly what it is. 

Three people smile up at me, sitting around a table covered in research. It’s my father, another man, and a woman. That woman must be my mother, Mary. Her eyes and mine are the same. I gulp and stare at the strange man. He looks familiar, and I think I’ve seen him in a paper. He’s not Curtis Connors, I think he’s more famous than that. 

Norman Osborn. The name comes to my mind, and I nod to myself. That’s who this man is. He’s been in the newspaper before, usually accompanied by articles about government weapons. That’s right. He sells to the government. Usually discoveries he’s made. I bite my bottom lip. So, he knew my parents too. 

Now I have a problem. Who do I go see first? Dr. Curtis Connors, or Norman Osborn? They both knew my parents. One of them must be able to tell me what happened. Because there’s a feeling I can’t shake about all this, that something is very wrong. 

With resolve, I walk over to a wall of my bedroom covered in posters, and begin taking them down. After laying them all on my bed, I stick the photographs of my parents up there with a thumbtack. May’s probably gonna get mad at me for sticking it directly in the wall, but that’s okay. I lean down, and pick up my father’s glasses. I pop the lenses out and put them on, gritting my teeth in determination. There’s a mystery to be solved here. Something happened to my parents, and I’m going to find out what.


	3. Involvement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH this fic has gotten such a large positive response already!!! I'm so honored!! You guys are the best. I can't wait for you to read more!

I shrug off my backpack and yawn as I enter Mr. Stark’s workshop in the compound the next day. It’s Friday, so I’ll be spending the weekend here. I spent way too long on the internet last night, looking up Connors and Osborn.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” I call, and he waves at me without looking my way from a table across the large room. 

“Your stuff’s over there,” he says, pointing to my work station. He’s already set out my chemicals for more web fluid. He must know I’m running out. I walk over to my table, adjusting the glasses on my face with a shaky hand. Why am I so nervous? They’re only glasses. Maybe it’s just, Mr. Stark has never seen me with glasses before. 

Or maybe it’s because they were my father’s. 

I’ve been wearing the glasses non-stop since yesterday. When I came out of my room wearing them, May looked at me and almost started crying. In a shaking voice she told me, 

“You look just like him.” 

Now, standing here in Mr. Stark’s lab, I know he won’t have the same response. But he lost his parents too. Maybe he’ll understand why these glasses are so important to me. They’re a mark of something I’ve lost that I can never get back. 

Footsteps near me, and with a deep breath I look up at Mr. Stark. He frowns, and gestures at my face. 

“Those are new,” he says. “No lenses though?” 

I nod, suddenly more nervous than I was before. “I uh, found them in this old case under May’s bed. They were um…my dad’s. Richard Parker.” I clear my throat and nod.

Mr. Stark suddenly sobers, and nods back. “Right,” he says. He scratches the back of his neck, and says, “Well you get to work there, kid. I’ll be over there.” He points to his own work station, and walks away. 

I exhale, letting the tension leave my body. Well, most of it. Because there’s something I need to ask him. Oh, well. He looks pretty focused right now, working on a new suit. I can ask him later. 

 

\-----

Later turns out to be three and a half hours and a meal later. We work in companionable silence for awhile, me working on my web fluid, and him on some repulsors. After two hours of this, Ms. Potts calls us up for dinner, which she ordered from an Italian place nearby. I gratefully accept the several extra portions she ordered for me. 

After dinner we head back down to the lab, for some work on my suit. This we always do together, and tonight is no different. He pulls up a hologram of my suit in the center of the room, and turns it around with a flick of his wrist. 

“So, what’ll it be, Pete?” he asks. “What do you want to work on tonight? Vision? Web shooters?” 

I look at the ground, wringing my hands. 

“What is it?” he says, crossing his arms. 

“Nothing, just…can I ask you a question?” 

He shrugs. “Shoot.” 

“I need your help finding out what happened to my parents,” I say in a rush, looking up at him. His eyes widen, but he stands still as I talk. “It’s just, uh, I found a briefcase that belonged to my dad, right? And well, I asked my aunt what happened to them. She always told me they died in a plane crash. And I get that, right? But the thing is, I asked her where they were going, and she told me she didn’t know. She didn’t know! That’s weird, right? And I found these two pictures, one of Dr. Curtis Connors with my parents, and another one of them with Norman Osborn, and—” 

“Woah, slow down.” Mr. Stark holds up a hand. He walks over to me and puts the same hand on my shoulder. “So you think there’s a mystery with your parents? Of how they…” 

“Died. Yeah.” 

He nods and looks away. “Well, I’d like to help you, but when I tried that, it didn’t work out so well for me.” 

Siberia. Right. 

“But it’s different for me,” I say before I can stop myself. “I just want to know where they were going, that’s all.” 

“What if there’s more, Peter?” he says, voice rising. “What if—” 

“I don’t care,” I say. 

He takes a loud breath through his nose, and looks at me. “Peter, you might not like what you find.” 

“It can’t be worse than what I’ve imagined,” I say, voice breaking. Worries have been entering my mind the past few days. What if they were escaping from something, and they had to leave me behind? What if they were being hunted? What if they were killed, and didn’t just die? 

I blink hard and look down. “Sorry,” I say. “I just really…” 

“You feel like you won’t be complete until you find out.” 

I look up at him. “Yeah.” I sigh. “Mr. Stark, I was four when they walked out the door. They never came back. I wanna know what they were leaving to do. Please.” 

He closes his eyes, then opens them. “Fine,” he says with a firm nod. “What were those names you mentioned? Connors and Osborn?” 

“Dr. Curtis Connors and Norman Osborn.” 

“Right.” He shuts down the hologram of my suit and says, “FRI, get me everything you can on Dr. Curtis Connors and Norman Osborn.” 

“Right away, sir,” the AI says, and hologram tabs begin to spring to life before us. 

“We should be able to find something here,” Mr. Stark says, waving aside some tabs, and pulling out others. 

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I jump. I pull it out, and frown. I don’t recognize this number. With a shrug, I answer and put it to my ear.

“Hello?” I say. 

“Peter Parker? This is Norman Osborn. I heard through the grapevine that you were looking for me.”


	4. Unexpected Assistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not posting last week! I was on vacation and couldn't make it. However, here's the next chapter! Thanks for all your patience.

I almost drop the phone in my shock. “Um. Yeah, this is Peter. Parker.” I turn to Mr. Stark and mouth, ‘Norman Osborn’. He frowns. “Just a moment,” I say into the phone. Mr. Stark holds up a finger, and I say, “It’s okay. He wants to help out.” I turn and walk out the door of the workshop, and lean against the wall outside. 

“Mr. Parker?” Mr. Osborn says. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m here,” I say, a little breathless. I mean, this is Norman Osborn I’m talking to. “Can I just ask, how’d you know I’m looking for you?” 

He chuckles. “I know when people are looking for me. Your search history isn’t private, you know. And when I realized it was Peter Parker, Richard and Mary’s son, who was looking, I figured I’d help and give you a call. So what can I do for you?” 

“Well,” I say, and lick my dry lips. “You remember my parents, right?” 

“Richard and Mary, of course. They were dear friends. I was sorry when they passed, and I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“Oh, thanks. I uh, was wondering if you could tell me something about them.” 

“What would you like to know?” 

I take a deep breath. “The thing is Mr. Osborn, I don’t remember what happened to them, and neither does my aunt. How they died, I mean. I was wondering if they told you anything before they died? Maybe where they were going?” 

Silence reigns for the next few moments. “Mr. Osborn?” I say. 

He clears his throat. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, the question took me off guard a bit.” 

“Oh…sorry.” 

“No, no need to apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it. Now it’s been…goodness, twelve years since they passed?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I see. Let me think…” 

My heart pounds as I wait for his answer. My other hand not holding the phone forms a fist, and I bite my lip. This could be it. This could be my answer.

“I’m sorry, no. They didn’t tell me anything.” 

“Oh,” I say, disappointment filling me. “Thank you though, sir.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. But tell you what, I could help you look, if that would help.” 

“Really?” I perk up. “That’d be great.” 

“Of course. Until next time, Mr. Parker. Actually, how about you come to Oscorp tower, say, sometime next week after school?” 

“That sounds great.” 

“How about next Wednesday, at 4?” 

“I’ll be there, sir.” 

“Excellent. Until then.” The phone beeps as he hangs up. 

Moments later, I walk back into the workshop. Mr. Stark immediately looks up and says, 

“What did he say?” 

“He wants to help me,” I say, still in a daze. 

“Really?” Mr. Stark frowns. “I didn’t think he was that kind of a guy.” 

I run a hand through my hair. “Well, hopefully he can help.” 

Mr. Stark nods, and says, “Yeah, maybe. In the meantime, let’s work on your suit, shall we?” 

“Right!” 

 

\---- 

 

The next Wednesday, I tell MJ that I can’t make it to decathlon practice. We stand in front of the school, me nervously twitching and her with crossed arms and a deadpan expression. 

“You’re flaking out on me, huh?” 

“It’s important,” I say. “Please? Just for today.” 

She sighs. “Okay. Is it spider-man stuff?” 

I shake my head. 

“Then what is it?” 

“It’s…something I need to find out.” 

Her brow creases. “You won’t tell me?” 

I look around, at all the people passing us. “Not here. Later though, I promise.” 

“Good.” She bites her lip, then leans in and kisses me on the cheek. “See you.” She runs back inside before I can respond. Hiding a grin, I turn away and call an Uber for Oscorp tower. 

In minutes I’m in front of it, gaping up at its height. This thing is almost as tall as Stark tower was. It has a hexagonal pattern on the outside, with the word OSCORP written in big letter on the top. With a deep breath, I open the doors. 

I enter into a huge lobby with glass walls, revealing a bigger atrium beyond. I walk up to a red-haired, burly male receptionist sitting behind a desk. 

“Um, hello,” I say. “Peter Parker here for a meeting with Mr. Osborn.” 

The man looks me up and down with a quizzical expression. “Are you sure?” 

“Can you look me up, please?” 

He sighs and turns to his computer, typing a few things in before blinking. “Yes. Um, here you are.” He turns to a set of doors at the end of the lobby and says, “Take the elevator to the 47th floor. Mr. Osborn’s private offices are up there. He should be ready to meet you.” 

“Great, thanks,” I say, running, then walking, to the doors. I make my way to the elevator then punch in the button for floor 47, gulping as a slender Asian woman stares me down. She smiles and says, 

“What brings you here?” 

“Oh, uh, I’m here for a meeting.” 

“Really?” she says. “Then good luck.” We stop at the thirtieth floor, and she exits. 

I take a deep breath. So far, no one has arrested me for coming in here. Thank god. As soon as the elevator stops at the 47th floor, I rush off, then careen to a halt. 

It’s like I’m in a different building entirely. Oak paneling surrounds me, covering every surface. Paintings line the walls, showing scenes of oceans and mountains. Three hallways branch off of the area I stand in, each lined with doors. 

“Peter,” a voice shocks me out of my head. I turn to see Norman Osborn standing to my right. “So good of you to come.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it. 

“Thank you, sir,” I say, a little breathless. This is kind of blowing my mind. I mean, this is the Norman Osborn, standing right in front of me. “So um…” 

He chuckles. “I’m guessing we should get started. Come with me.” He begins walking down the third hall, and opens one of the doors. I follow, and blink at the pristine white room we enter. This building just doesn’t seem to want to be in one style. Filing cabinets stand at attention, and Mr. Osborn walks over to one of them. Using a key from his pocket, he opens the top drawer, pulling out some files. He hands them to me, and soon I have a small pile growing in my arms. 

“Um, sir?” I ask. “What are these for?” 

“Oh, these? They’re on your parents’ work. Their research, to be precise. I thought you might be interested.” 

I nod. “But will this…” 

“Help you find them? I thought it might. There are some locations in these files, some labs they’ve worked in. Maybe they were going to one of them when they passed.” 

“Oh! That makes sense.” A spark of hope lights inside me. A few minutes later, Mr. Osborn helps me carry the stacks of folders to another room, this time an office, where we spend the next half hour scanning the files in silence. I try and look for locations, and I find a few, mostly labs here in the city, which I put in a stack. There aren’t any out of city locations though, as far as I can tell. 

One thing does catch my attention, though. 

“Um, sir?” I ask. 

“Yes?” Mr. Osborn looks up from his papers, where he’s made a stack of locations as well. 

“I keep seeing these words. Cross-species genetics.” 

“Yes, that was your parents’ primary research field.” 

“What were they doing with it?” 

“The title is sort of self-explanatory, actually. They were attempting to give one species’ trait to another.” 

“I know. But…” 

“What were they doing? Well, take a look at this.” He pulls a file from his pile and hands it to me. 

The front is marked with a double zero, both crossed out. 

“What?” I say, taking the file. 

“This was their best research,” he says softly. “It’s amazing, what they did. They cracked it, Peter. The genetic code. They did it. But…” He sighs. “They never told anyone how they did it. That research is unreadable.” 

“Unreadable?” I repeat, opening the file and scanning the papers. 

“Yes, unfortunately. Those two were as genius as Stark when it came to biology. They knew genetics like no one else. And they actually did it, once. They engineered a group of organisms that could give their DNA to a human. Can you believe that? Of course, it was never tested. Too dangerous, you know. And the organisms were ultimately destroyed a few months ago, since they never were any use.” 

“What organisms?” I say with a frown. 

“Oh. Well, spiders.” 

My heart skips a beat. “I’m sorry?” 

“Yes, they made a group of spiders that could give their genetic information to humans. And just the right amount, too. It was incredible. They—” 

“Sorry,” I say, barely able to stand. “Can I take this file home? Please?” 

Mr. Osborn looks from the file to me with a quizzical expression. “Why? Do you think you can understand it?” 

“Oh, um…” I hadn’t thought of that. “Sure.” 

He smiles. “Excellent! Then it’s all yours.” 

I smile back and step back, thanking him. “I’m so sorry, I have to go. Is that okay?” 

“Yes, of course. See you later, Mr. Parker.” 

“Sure. Thank you, Mr. Osborn. Thank you!” 

With that I run out of the room and back to the elevator. Even before the doors close, I’m dialing Mr. Stark’s number on my phone. He picks up within a minute. 

“This had better be important kid, I’m in the middle of a meeting.” 

“Yes, it is,” I say in a rush. “Mr. Stark I just found something really important. You know the spider that bit me? In Oscorp? My parents made those spiders.” 

“What?” Mr. Stark says, suddenly all business. “How?” 

“I’ll explain. Can you come over for dinner tonight? To the apartment. Please?” 

“On my way.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. See you then.”


	5. A Visit

Later, a knock on the door makes me drop the book I’m reading. May sits at the table with the takeout, along with MJ. She’s come over again after we went on a date this afternoon. 

“Who could that be?” I mutter to myself as I walk to the door and open it. Mr. Stark stands before me, and puts his sunglasses in his chest pocket. 

“You okay?” he says. “What’s with the shocked face?” 

“Um…nothing,” I say quickly. Shit, I totally forgot I invited him over tonight! What’ll I do? MJ’s here. Last time they met was the first time they’d ever seen each other, and it ended in a sarcasm battle. What’ll happen this time? 

May speaks from across the room. “Peter, why don’t you invite him in?” 

I jump, and open the door fully, letting Mr. Stark walk in. “Sure, sorry.” 

He looks across the room, and his eyes land on MJ. He looks at me and smirks. 

“So MJ’s here, huh?” 

“Yup,” she says from the table. “You surprised, old dude?” 

He frowns. “Old dude?” 

She shrugs. “Sorry, that’s the best I can do on short notice. If Peter had let me know you were coming, I could have come up with something really good.” 

He chuckles, then looks at me. “Don’t worry, Peter. No sass battles this time. Right?” He turns to MJ. 

She bites a nail and says, “Sure, whatever. Truce, then.” 

Mr. Stark nods, and he and I come to the table. 

“Took you long enough,” MJ says as she sips her tea. “I’m hungry.” 

“You’re always hungry,” I say. 

“So?” 

“So, aren’t you ever full?” 

She sighs and says with all seriousness, “Peter, I’m an ancient eldritch beast trapped in a human body, I’m never full.” 

I throw my head back laughing, and get even more joy from the little smile she gives me. 

“Oh for god’s sake, save the flirting for after dinner,” Mr. Stark says. 

That shuts MJ and I up really quick. We’re still new to this whole couple thing, and any comments about it get us blushing fast. Like right now, as we look away from each other with flushing faces. 

The rest of dinner passes in companionable conversation, with MJ making smart comments, Mr. Stark and I laughing, and May keeping the peace when Mr. Stark and MJ go head to head. Because of course, Mr. Stark can’t resist a little sass battle. 

As soon as they’re done, Mr. Stark says, “Hey Pete, can I have a word with you real quick?” 

I frown. “Um, sure. Why?” 

He stands and says, “Just hear me out, kay?” 

I nod, and follow him to my room. I sit down on my bed, tapping my foot on the floor. I look at him for a few moments, not sure of what to say. He hasn’t said anything yet either. Finally I clear my throat and say, 

“So…” 

“Right.” He looks down at me, standing a few feet away. “What have you found?” 

“Found?” 

“You know.” 

“Oh.” I wring my hands. “Uh, right. Well, I talked to Norman Osborn today.” 

“What are you guys talking about?” MJ says from the door. I jump, and see her leaning against the frame with her arms crossed. 

Mr. Stark is about to say something, when I say, 

“Um, nothing.” 

She raises her eyebrows. “You can’t fool me, dumbass. I know it’s something important.” She comes and sits down beside me. “So tell me.” Her voice is a command I can’t ignore. Mr. Stark looks at me with a questioning expression, but I give him a nod. This is okay, I mentally tell him. I could never keep a secret from MJ anyway. 

It only takes a few moments to fill her in on everything that’s happened in the past week. She nods and listens as I explain, everything from the finding of the briefcase to meeting Norman Osborn earlier today. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asks. “I would’ve helped you.” 

I look down. “You know how I get. Secrets are second nature at this point.” 

“And I’m trying to help you with that,” she says patiently, putting a hand on mine. “You shouldn’t have to feel like you have to hide stuff from me. You know that, idiot.” 

A smile comes to my face. “Right.” 

Mr. Stark groans and says, “I feel like I’m watching a teen romance movie. Can we get back to the subject please, now that we’re apparently all here?”

I laugh. “Sure.” Shifting a little to hold MJ’s hand, I say, “So he told me my parents made the spider that bit me. That’s the most important thing.” 

“Is it though?” Mr. Stark says. “I don’t really see how it relates.” 

I hold up a finger. “Sure it does. It…huh.” I lower the finger. 

“No, I kind of do,” MJ says. 

“Yeah?” I say, turning to her. 

“It’s not that they made the spider that bit you that matters, it’s that they made the spiders at all. I mean, they engineered an organism that can give select parts of its DNA to others. Like how you can climb walls, but you don’t have eight eyes. Which would be totally gross.” 

I laugh. “True.” 

“But what I’m getting at, is that their research was super important. What if someone was after it? I mean, Mr. Osborn said no one was able to understand those notes. No one’s been able to replicate your parents’ research, since they’re not here to explain it. Does what I’m saying make sense?” She looks from me to Mr. Stark and back. 

I sit frozen on the bed, thoughts whirling through my mind. Holy shit, she might be right. I don’t want her to be though, just this once. Please be wrong, I plead mentally. Because what if she’s right? What if my parents didn’t just die, but were killed for their research? I bow my head and place my face in my hands. 

“Shit,” I mutter. 

“Peter?” MJ says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?” Vaguely I note Mr. Stark sitting down, on my other side. 

“You know what you’re implying, right?” I say through my hands. “That they were murdered.” 

She falls silent. 

“I’m sorry, Pete. I had considered it a possibility,” Mr. Stark says. “For people with rare research, this kind of stuff does happen sometimes.” 

“But… you don’t have any proof that it did happen. That they were killed. Maybe their plane was just faulty or something,” I say, straightening and lowering my hands. 

“Pete,” Mr. Stark says with a sigh. 

“Peter,” MJ says from my other side, squeezing my hand. I turn to her. “Both are possibilities. That they died, or were killed.” 

“And there’s the other thing,” I say. “That they made the spider that bit me. That’s got to count for something.” 

“I don’t know. It might.” She releases my hand and crosses her arms. “Well, it might not relate to the murder, but I know it does relate to you.” 

“What do you mean?” I tilt my head. 

She blushes and looks down. “You’re gonna think it’s stupid.” 

“Hey, you’re not the stupid one in this relationship. That’s me.” 

She chuckles and sighs. “Yeah.” 

“You sure agreed with that fast.” 

“Whatever,” she says with a smile. Her expression fades into a wistful sort of frown. “But what I was going to say is, I think it means your parents are watching over you.” 

“Really?” 

She nods. “That spider came from their hard work. From their dedication. And it ended up passing to you. Isn’t that neat? You ended up receiving your own parents’ life’s work. I think they’d be proud of what you’ve done with it. What I’m trying to say is…I think they’d be glad that you were the one that got bit.” 

For several seconds no one says anything. Finally Mr. Stark scoffs and says, 

“Well damn, I wish Pepper would talk to me like that.” 

I give him a playful shove, then kiss MJ on the cheek. She goes red but gives a small smile. “Thanks, babe,” I say. 

“Well, glad you don’t think it’s stupid,” she says. 

“So what should we do next,” Mr. Stark says, clearing his throat. Emotions have never been his thing, so I understand his change of subject, and go along with it.

“I dunno. I hadn’t really thought about it. I’d been so caught up with the subject of the research, and me, I guess. I’m not really sure what we should do.” 

“You could look into that file. You know, the one you’re really not supposed to have,” MJ says. 

“True.” 

“Maybe you should talk to this Curtis Connors guy first,” Mr. Stark says. “I looked into it, and he knew your parents well. Better than Norman did. Apparently he and your parents had been friends since college.” 

“He really knew them that long? Damn,” I say. 

“Language. And, yeah, from what I can tell, he did. They did research together, occasionally. He was as much a genius as they were. I mean, he’s done some fairly impressive work with biology.” 

“Then let’s visit him,” MJ says. 

“When?” I ask. 

“Right now.” 

“Really?” 

She shrugs. “Why not? Look up his address, and you’re there.” 

Mr. Stark nods. “Sounds good. But why don’t just Peter and I go?” 

I expect MJ to disagree, but to my surprise she nods. “I’m going to look into that file. Plus, someone’s got to explain to May where you guys are going. That and I’m fucking tired.” 

“Sounds good,” Mr. Stark says. I note that he didn’t correct her language. “Come on Pete,” he says, rising. “Let’s go visit this guy.”


	6. Discussions

Mr. Stark stops the car in Dr. Connors’ drive way. He looks at me and says, 

“You sure?” 

I take a deep breath. “No. But what choice do I have?” 

He nods, and says, “Good. Let’s do this then.” With that, he unlocks the car and we both get out. 

The air is warm, hinting at the coming summer. Dr. Connors’ house is a small brick ranch style, with white shutters and a black tiled roof. The door is a pale green. I ball my hands into fists, then release them. My stomach is jittery as I walk up to the door. With only a moment’s hesitation, I knock three times. 

At first, nothing happens. I lean over to Mr. Stark and whisper, “Do you think he’s home?” 

“Yeah. His car is here.” 

I look over at the small Prius in the driveway. “Right.” Turning back to the door, I fidget with the top button of my shirt. After toying with it for about ten seconds, Mr. Stark says, 

“Seriously, Pete. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Just nervous. I mean, what if this guy can tell me what happened?” 

“Oh believe me, no one doubted you were nervous.” 

I force a chuckle. “Right.” 

The door opens, and I jump back with a gasp of surprise. A man stands before me, with pale blond hair and glasses. He wears a green button-down shirt, one sleeve tied up where he has lost an arm, and neatly pressed khakis. 

“Hello?” he asks in a light British accent. 

“Dr. Connors,” I say. “I’ve um…I like your research.” 

Mr. Stark sighs behind me. My face goes a beet red. That’s seriously the best thing I can say? This guy knew my parents! 

“Well, I thank you, but this is a home, and it’s very late. So I’m afraid I must bid you goodbye. You can drop by my office tomorrow,” he says, moving to close the door. 

Right when the door is about to close, I raise my voice and say, 

“I’m Richard and Mary Parker’s son.” 

The door stops, then opens. Dr. Connors looks at me with a new shock, then whispers, 

“Peter?” 

 

\------- 

In moments, Mr. Stark and I are sitting in Dr. Connors living room, each sitting on a chair near the fireplace. The living room connects to the kitchen with a bar, and Dr. Connors moves in the kitchen, getting us drinks. 

“I’m so sorry, Peter, you caught me a bit unprepared. And Mr. Stark, of course.” 

“Sorry,” I say, as he comes back in and hands me a cup of tea. I’m not much of a tea drinker, but MJ is determined to change that, so I take the cup and sip it. It’s actually pretty good, with a sweet orange scent. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“It’s perfectly all right,” he says, handing Mr. Stark his drink and sitting on the couch opposite us with his own. “I’m happy to have you. I hardly recognized you, of course. You’ve grown so much since I last saw you.” 

My heart skips a beat. “We’ve met before?” 

“Of course,” he says with a smile. “I used to see you when I visited your parents’ home, as I often did in those days. You were so small then.” He chuckles. “I even remember when you were born.” 

“You do?” I say softly. 

“Yes, it was a humid Sunday in August. It was raining, as I recall. Your parents called me and told me you’d been born. I was the first to see you, apart from your parents. You were so small, they were worried. But you had some strength in you, even then.” 

I look down, a small smile on my face. It was raining on the day I was born. I never knew that. 

“But…why haven’t you called? Or emailed, or something?” I say, looking back up. 

He sighs and looks away. For several seconds, he doesn’t say anything. Mr. Stark looks at me and in his eyes I can read what he might say. 

Dr. Connors doesn’t want to talk about this. 

But then the man speaks. 

“After they passed, I was distraught. All that research, gone. Those kind people, who only ever wanted to help others, dead. My best friends. I was sad and…angry.” He looks back at me. “And so I stayed away from you and your family, and for that I am truly sorry.” He takes a breath. “I didn’t know if you would even want to speak to me.” 

For a moment, I can’t find the words. I don’t blame him, not even a little bit. But it’s written all over his face that he thinks I do. My heart aches, and I gulp. Then I say, 

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. Not even a little bit. I’m just glad to meet you.” 

Dr. Connors smiles, bringing a little bit of happiness back to his face. “And I you, Peter. You’ve become such a wonderful young man. Richard and Mary would be proud.” 

I blush and give a smile of my own. 

Mr. Stark clears his throat, and Dr. Connors and I both jump. 

“Remember why you came here?” he says. 

“Right,” I say, biting my bottom lip. I turn to Dr. Connors and say plainly, “I’m trying to find out what happened to my parents.” 

“What happened?” he asks with a frown. “You know that, don’t you?” 

“I know they died in a plane crash. But I don’t even know where they were going, or what they were doing.” 

Dr. Connors releases a breath. “Well I can tell you that much. They were coming to visit me.” 

Lightning jolts through my body. “They were?” 

“Yes,” he says. “I was upstate at the time, in a private labratory. That lab no longer exists, of course. But they were on their way to it when the plane crashed.” He looks down. “I blamed myself. I thought you would too.” 

I blink. “But I don’t.” 

He gazes at me. “Thank you, Peter. That’s very kind of you.”

“So do you know what was wrong with the plane?” I ask. “Why it crashed?” 

He shrugs. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. I always assumed it was some kind of mechanical failure.” 

I nod. “Okay. Thanks, Dr. Connors.” 

“You’re very welcome, Peter.” 

 

\-------

 

Mr. Stark and I drive back to the apartment in silence. We’re driving up into the building’s parking lot, when he says, 

“So is that it?” 

“What?” I look at him. “I mean, yeah, I guess.” 

“It seems a little too easy.” 

I shrug. “Maybe. But I found out where they were going.” 

“I don’t know.” He looks around, then leans in to say, “Maybe look into why the plane crashed.” 

“Really? Why?” 

He sits back. “It’s too simple, Pete. They were going to visit a friend when the plane just crashed? I don’t believe it.” 

“How can you say that?” I say, a sharp edge coming into my voice. “For the last time, Mr. Stark, they weren’t killed.” 

“I’m not saying that Pete, just consider it a possibility—” 

“Whatever,” I say, getting out and slamming the door. Without even saying goodbye, I storm up to the apartment, giving May and MJ the barest greeting before retreating to my room and closing the door. 

With a sigh, I flop face-first onto the bed. I want to be mad, I really do. But a part of me knows Mr. Stark may be right. I just don’t want to accept it. 

That doesn’t stop me from texting Ned at 2 am, saying, 

‘Can you help me look into something?’ If anyone can find those plane records, Ned can.


	7. Confirmed Suspicions

Ned comes up to me after first period the next day, hugging his laptop. 

“Can you hang out tonight?” he says, and I can tell he’s faking casual by the way his hands twitch and his foot taps. 

“Uh, sure,” I say, closing my locker. “What for?” 

He looks at me and says. “Come on, Peter. The stuff you asked me to look for? The…aviation work?” 

I open and close my mouth, then nod. “Right. Thanks, man.” 

“Sure,” he says and walks the other direction, fast as he can. 

“What was that about?” MJ says behind me, and I jump, turning to stare at her. 

“Do you have to sneak up on me like that?” I hiss. 

She smirks, and a part of me goes to heaven. I love that smirk more than life itself. “Yes. It’s fun.” 

I roll my eyes and put on a smile of my own. “Of course.” 

“So what was that about?” she says, nodding at Ned’s retreating form. Quickly I whisper in her ear what I’m looking into. When I pull back, she has a focused expression on her face. “Then I’m coming to your place too,” she says. “Can’t keep me out of this.” 

My smile grows. “Thanks, MJ.” 

“See you then.” 

 

\----- 

 

The rest of the day is agony, waiting until I can see Ned and find out what he knows. I even get a chemistry question wrong when I’m called on in class. That hasn’t happened since…ever. Lunch is even worse, with every word Ned and MJ say going in one ear and out the other. I just want tonight to come. 

Finally, the school day ends, and I rush home, banging the door open and startling May. 

“Sorry,” I say. “Just got some stuff to do tonight.” 

She smiles and says, “Okay. Just be careful.” 

“Oh, we’ll be here. Ned and MJ are coming over. That okay?” 

“Sure,” she says with a nod. “They’re welcome anytime.” 

With my own nod of thanks, I run to my room and turn to my wall. Since the day I posted the pictures up there, I’ve added even more papers. Articles on my parents, or Norman Osborn, or Dr. Curtis Connors. Mr. Osborn and Dr. Connors have been a great help, but there’s nothing like a little personal sleuthing. From my own research I’ve figured out that Mr. Osborn and my parents were also college friends, and once had a dream of all starting a company together. That dream died though, as my parents delved more into research and decided to work for Mr. Osborn instead. Dr. Connors worked with them through it all, helping them along. From what I can tell, he is just as much of a genius as they were. 

A part of me wonders if I’m that smart. But whatever, right? 

Nothing from their history gives me any cause for concern, which is a huge relief. Still, I haven’t stopped searching for any leads that might help. But I know this wasn’t a murder. It couldn’t have been. Because then, all my worst fears would be realized. And who knows, if someone killed my parents…what if I’m next? 

I shake my head, pushing the thought from my mind. A knock at the front door makes me leave my room, and I open it to see Ned and MJ, looking nervous. 

“What’s up you guys?” I ask. “Everything okay?” 

Ned moves to speak, but MJ beats him to it. 

“Yeah,” she says. “We just wanted to talk to you about some stuff. Ned filled me in about what he’s found.” 

“Great. Then let’s go.” With that, I lead them to my room, where we all convene on the floor. 

“Nice wall,” MJ says with a raised eyebrow, gesturing to my articles and pictures. 

I shrug and say, “I mean, I wanted to keep track of stuff. And it’s not really a mystery unless you pin stuff to a wall, you know?” 

“Nice,” Ned says, coming back to his usual, lighthearted self for a moment. After a second though, he looks down, and grips his computer tight in his hands. “So I looked into what you wanted me to…” 

“Awesome,” I say, resting my arms on my knees. “So what’d you find?” 

“That’s just it, Peter. You might um…not like it?” 

A seed of nervousness plants in my stomach. “Oh?” 

“Yeah.” Ned opens his computer, and begins typing. “So um, you asked me to look for the plane records on your parents’ flight. So I looked for all flights leaving the New York airport that day, but I couldn’t find anything. That’s when I figured, they might be using a smaller airport.” 

“Right,” I say with a nod. 

“So I looked for all the smaller airports, and at first I couldn’t find anything. Your parents weren’t listed on any outgoing flights. But then I looked into personal planes, and it turns out they were on a small personal jet owned by Norman Osborn. And then I looked at the status of the plane.” He gulps at this. 

“What’s wrong?” 

MJ looks from Ned to me, and says, “That’s the thing, Pete. There wasn’t anything wrong with the plane. There was no reason for it to have crashed. No leaks, no faulty equipment, nothing.” 

My breath catches. “What?” I say, my voice small. “You can’t be serious.” 

“But look,” Ned says, turning his screen to me. On it is a diagram of a jet. The jet my parents were on. Something about this feels invasive, like I’m looking at something I shouldn’t. But I have to find out what happened to my parents. So I look. 

And Ned and MJ are right. The diagram is perfect, and the pilot notes listed on another file say that the plane had nothing wrong with it. 

“So this means…somebody caused the plane to go down. On purpose,” I say. My voice breaks, and I cover my mouth with a hand. 

MJ crawls over and puts her arms around me. “I’m so sorry Peter,” she whispers into my ear. She kisses my cheek as I begin to cry, tracing circle on my back with a hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she repeats, like it’s somehow her fault. 

Ned moves in on the hug, murmuring a few apologies of his own. After a few moments, I pull back and say, 

“Okay, stop that.” 

“What?” Ned says. 

“Stop apologizing. This isn’t your fault.” My voice comes out sharper than I meant. 

“We’re just trying to help you,” MJ says. “What’s wrong with that?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you helping me. I’m just pissed off, and scared, because apparently somebody got in their head that it’d be a good idea if my parents died, and murdered them!” 

My voice has risen to a shout before I even realize it. MJ and Ned stare at me, eyes wide. I look down and mutter, “Sorry. I’m just so angry.” My voice dissolves into a sob, and before I know it I’m crying again. “Who would do something like that?” 

Before Ned and MJ can respond, May’s voice comes from above. 

“Peter?” she says in a soft voice. I look up, and she’s standing at the door. She looks so ordinary, with her tank top and sweatpants, that just the sight of her calms me. “Peter, what’s going on?” 

MJ stands and says, “Ms. Parker, we’re…trying to find out what happened to Peter’s parents.” 

“And you think they were killed?” The fear in May’s voice cuts deep into my heart. 

“Yes.” 

“Oh…oh, okay.” May’s voice breaks, and a tear traces down her cheek. “It’s not like that’s a surprise. I suspected, sometimes, back after it happened.” She pads into the room in her fuzzy socks, and kneels down at my side. “Peter, baby, it’s going to be okay.” 

I nod and lean into her shoulder. “Thanks, May.” 

She pats my hair and shushes my tears away until they stop. May has always had that kind of power, the power to make the sadness fade. She sits back after several moments and says, 

“So what are you going to do?” 

“Hm?” 

“Please, Peter, I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re going to want to do something about this.” 

I smile shakily, and say, “Yeah. I wanna find out who did this.” My smile fades into a hardened frown. 

She gives a nod, and says, “Good, me too.” 

“What?” I sit up straighter. “You’re not…gonna stop me?” 

She shakes her head. “Peter, this mystery has haunted me too, ever since they died. I mean, they were my brother and sister in law. I want to know who did this.” 

“Good. Cause we’re going to find out.”


	8. Revealing the Cold Truth

“You were right,” I say as I slam my bag onto the table as I enter the compound that Friday. 

“Peter?” Mr. Stark asks. 

As he looks at me, my throat closes up and I remember the harsh words I gave him. I bow my head and sigh. 

“First, I should say I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For shouting at you. I didn’t mean it.” 

He looks at me with a wry smile and says, “Hey, don’t sweat it. You were pissed. I get it.” 

“Still…”

“It’s okay. All right?” 

I bite my lip. “All right.” 

“Now, what were you saying?” Mr. Stark asks flippantly from his seat at his own table. “What was I right about this time?” 

“My parents. You were right. Someone killed them.” 

His face falls. “Peter,” he says. “I’m sorry, kiddo.” 

My eyes sting, but I wipe them furiously, refusing to cry about this again. “You were right, and I didn’t believe you.” 

“You didn’t want to. Believe me, I get it.” He rises and walks over to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Again, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been getting that a lot.” 

“A lot?” he says with a frown. 

“I told Ned and MJ. Well, they told me. I asked Ned to look into the plane records. There was nothing wrong with the plane, no reason for it to go down before takeoff. It had to have been sabotage. Oh, and May knows too.” 

Mr. Stark sighs, and asks FRIDAY for some lemonade for me. “You’re gonna need it,” he says. “Cause I’ve got some stuff for you too.” 

“Oh?” I ask, and we move to the center of the room, where he pulls up a hologram. 

“Yep,” he says. “Take a look at this.” He waves his hands, and a whirlwind of files comes up, all with a note that says, ACCESS UNAVAILABLE. 

I frown. “What is this?” 

“It’s what I found. I looked into the investigation of the crash, but I couldn’t find anything. And you know how much that pisses me off. These files are frickin blocked. From me.” He scowls. 

“Blocked? But how?” 

“By a damn good hacker, that’s how.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “And that’s just suspicious as all hell. Somebody doesn’t want these files to be seen.” 

“You think…you think you could send those files to me?” I ask. “I could try and open them.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I can try, at least. I’m a decent hacker.” 

He smiles and says, “Don’t downplay your skills, Pete. You’re more than a decent hacker. And that friend of yours, Ned, he’s good too. Too good, if you ask me. You two make me worried for the safety of the next generation.” 

I laugh and say, “Hey! That’s mean.” 

“Is it though? Or am I just telling the truth?” 

We share a laugh for a moment, then quiet down. “Sure, I can send you these,” he says. “Don’t take too long opening them, though.” 

“I won’t,” I say, opening my phone as Mr. Stark sends the files over. “I can take a look at these later.” 

“Later?”

“I’m meeting Mr. Osborn. Again.” 

Mr. Stark scowls again. “Oh, great... him.” 

I chuckle. “What’s wrong with Mr. Osborn? He’s been really helpful.” 

“Tell you what, when you have a company rivalry with the guy, you tell me that again.” 

“Ha, all right,” I say. 

“When are you meeting with him?” 

“Monday afternoon.” 

“Okay. Good luck, kid,” Mr. Stark says. “Now let’s get to work on what we usually do. I’ve got some old suits I think you’d like to look at.” 

“Awesome. Thanks, Mr. Stark.” 

“Sure.”

 

\--- 

 

That Monday afternoon, I walk into Mr. Osborn’s office with purpose. I stop at the door however, when I see him occupied with something on his computer. I tap on the doorway, and he looks up and smiles. “Hey, kiddo,” he says. “Sorry, I was just checking on some things.” He clicks on something, probably closing a window, and walks over to me, shaking my hand. “Good to see you again.” 

“You too, sir.” 

“So what shall it be today? I’ve got some old research of your parents that I think you’d really enjoy.” 

“Actually…” I swallow and take a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you I figured something out. About their deaths.” 

His eyes sadden, and he sighs. “I see. And what did you find?” 

“I’ve been pretty stupid. I thought it was just an accident that killed them. But there was nothing wrong with the plane. I checked into the records, and it was all fine. I mean, I checked into most of them, cause the private investigation file is all blocked, but I’m working on that. Anyway, somebody told me to look into the plane records, so that’s what I did. And it had to have been sabotage. My parents were…they were murdered.” 

For several moments, Mr. Osborn doesn’t say anything. Then, he puts a hand on my shoulder, and says, 

“Oh, Peter. I am truly sorry.” 

“Thank you, sir. That…that means a lot.” 

“I’m curious though,” he says as he goes back to sit at his desk. “How did you know to go for the records? You said someone told you to.” 

“Yeah. It was this guy who was friends with my parents; Curtis Connors.” 

Mr. Osborn’s eyes darken, and he mutters, “Ah, him.” 

I frown. “Everything okay?” 

“Yes. Connors and I haven’t always gotten along swimmingly, I guess you’d say.” 

“Oh,” I say. “Sorry to hear that.” 

“Yes, well, I suppose some things can’t be helped. Anyway, would you like to look at that research now?” 

I nod. “Actually, that could be fun. Thanks, sir.” 

He smiles. “No problem. Here it is.” He slides a file over to me, and I take it gratefully. 

Mr. Osborn and I spend the rest of the evening in a companionable silence, each looking through our own files. After several hours, it begins to get dark, and Mr. Osborn says, 

“You should probably be going home. The city isn’t too safe at night these days.” 

I nod. “Well, thanks, Mr. Osborn sir. I really appreciate all this.” 

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Parker. Can I expect you again soon?” 

“Um, yeah. Can we do next week, this same time?” 

“Of course. See you then.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Osborn!” With that, I rush into the elevator and down onto the street, into the open air. The darkness seems ominous tonight, and I’m grateful that Mr. Osborn let me go. 

He’s right. The city isn’t safe at night. 

Before long, I’m on my way home, and that’s when I feel it. A slight tingle at the back of my neck. I stop walking, and a second pair of footsteps stops behind me. I let my breathing slow, and pick up the sound of someone else’s breathing. Shit. I take a step forward, and the stranger takes a step too. Then my spider sense flares, and I duck as a shot rings out. 

The person fires again, and I leap out of the way just in time. In the dark, I can just see a strange man clad in black, holding a small gun. Oh, fuck. I’m not wearing my suit, so I can’t risk fighting him off. Cameras could catch me. 

He moves in with a punch, which I dodge. He tries again, and again, and on his third time, he hits my stomach. I crumple to the ground, coughing and clutching my stomach. Ow, that hurt. I scramble to my feet as he shoots again, right where my head just was. Cursing under my breath, I rush into a nearby alley. As he follows me, I web his gun hand to a garbage can. He swears, and takes out a knife, cutting himself free. Well shit. At least he’s dropped the gun, though.

The man runs at me swinging the knife, and I grab his hand, only for him to grab my arm and flip me over his shoulder, slamming me into the concrete. All breath leaves me in a rush. The stranger looms over me, knife raised, the blade gleaming in the city lights from the alley entrance. 

Is this it? Is this how Spider-man goes down? 

The man puts his boot on my chest, preventing me from getting up. He raises his knife to attack, and I close my eyes—

SLAM.

My eyes open and I see something ram into the stranger’s chest, forcing him backwards into some garbage cans. 

“What the hell?” I mutter, but cut off as I see what just hit the man. A round shield, with a star in the center. 

Holy shit.


	9. Many Meetings and the Most Awkward Car Ride Ever

“You okay, son?” a deep voice asks behind me. I jolt, and scramble to my feet, turning around to see the one and only Steve Rogers. Beside him stands two figures, one tall, slim, and wearing glasses, the other pale as a ghost with shoulder-length hair. 

“Um…hi,” I say, lame as I can be. 

“Steve Rogers,” Mr. Rogers says, walking forward and sticking out his hand. I shake it, gripping it a little too hard probably. But hey, I’m nervous! “These are my friends--”

“Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson. I uh, know who you are.” 

Mr. Rogers frowns. “What?” 

Shit. I take my hand from his and grip my hands in fists at my sides.“Nothing.” 

“You know us?” Mr. Barnes says, raising an eyebrow. 

“No.”

“Nice try kid, but you just said our names,” Mr. Wilson says. “Who are you?” 

“Peter. Parker. I’m just a kid from Queens.” 

“Queens.” Mr. Rogers’ eyes narrow, then widen. “ The kid from the airport.” 

“No! What airport? No, no, no—” 

Mr. Wilson steps forward. “You know, that actually makes sense. I knew you sounded like a twelve-year-old.” 

“I’m sixteen—” 

“Whatever. The point is, I knew you were just a kid.” 

“Which begs the question, why would Stark get him involved in this?” Mr. Rogers bows his head, eyes clouding over with anger. 

“I was shorthanded, and if you don’t back away from Peter right now, this is going to turn into a movie rated R for violence,” a voice says behind me. 

I jump and turn as Mr. Stark lands, hand repulsors raised and the face-plate of his armor lifting to reveal a face so angry I hardly recognize him. 

“Mr. Stark?” I ask softly. 

“Stay out of this, kid,” he says, stepping past me to stand before Mr. Rogers. “This isn’t your fight.” 

“Oh, but it was in Germany?” Mr. Rogers asks. “Tony, why would you hire a child?” 

“Like I said, I was shorthanded. And what the hell are you doing here? You’re not in Wakanda with your best friend, who, I might add, is also a murderer?” 

Mr. Rogers’ frown turns into a grimace. “Tony, don’t start this again.” 

“I’ll start when I want to, you—” 

“Stop!” I shout, and before I can stop myself, I’ve planted myself between the two men, holding my arms out. “Just, stop. Please.” 

“Kid—” Mr. Stark starts, but I cut him off. 

“Germany, and Siberia, and whatever, was two years ago. Can’t you guys ever let anything go? You guys were friends, my heroes. I’ve looked up to you guys my whole life.” My voice rises as I speak, and before I know it I’m shouting at them. “Mr. Rogers, he did hire me because he was shorthanded. But he also did it to give me a chance. He made my life better, and I owe him everything. And Mr. Stark…” My voice falls as I look at him. “His friend didn’t mean to kill anyone. He was being controlled, isn’t that what you told me? So please. Stop fighting?” 

As soon as I finish I realize what the hell I’m doing. My eyes widen, and I drop my hands. “Shoot, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted, I uh, didn’t mean it? Well-I mean-obviously I did mean it, I really do want you guys to stop, I just uh, oh god, I um…” 

Mr. Rogers bows his head, and his shoulders shake. He’s laughing. “Wow, Tony,” he says. “I can see why you hired him.”

“Sure, whatever,” Mr. Stark grumbles. He looks at me with shock. “Kid…you meant that?”

I nod, biting my lip. “No more fighting,” I repeat. “Please.” 

“I wish it were that simple,” he replies. “But Pete, some things aren’t so easy.” 

“Mr. Stark—”

“Look,” Mr. Rogers sighs. “I’m sorry.” 

Mr. Stark’s eyes widen, and he says, “Come again?” 

“I’m sorry, Tony. I wasn’t open with you when I should’ve been. I didn’t mean to hide anything from you.” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that you did.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry for that. But let’s listen to the kid. I’m willing to.” 

Mr. Stark looks from Mr. Rogers, to Mr. Barnes, to me, and breathes a heavy sigh. “I still don’t trust you.” 

“I’m not asking you to, I just—” 

“Tony!” someone says from the street. We all look over as Happy drives up, rolling the window down. “You asked me to follow, so here I am—holy shit.” His gaze lands on Mr. Rogers, and he says, “Aren’t you not supposed to be here?” 

“It’s okay, Happy,” I call. “We’re fine.” 

Happy still parks and gets out of the car, walking over to us. “Oh, thank god you’re okay,” he says, looking at me. “Tony told me someone attacked you.” 

“Yeah…” I trail off, looking at the man on the ground, slumped against the alley wall. “He’s gonna be unconscious for a while though.” 

“Let’s take him to the compound, then.” Happy looks at Mr. Rogers. “I’m not carrying him.” 

Mr. Rogers nods and goes to pick the guy up. 

So there I am, in the weirdest situation in my entire life, squeezed in the back of Happy’s car, squeezed with Mr. Rogers on my left, and Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes on my right, with Mr. Stark casually in the front seat and Happy driving. 

“Sorry that I didn’t grab a bigger car. You guys’ll just have to squeeze,” Happy says.

“It’s fine,” Mr. Wilson huffs, his tone of voice signaling that it is clearly not fine. 

The first few minutes of the car ride are the most awkward in history. No one speaks. I glance from face to face, trying to gauge how everyone’s feeling. Mr. Rogers gives me a kind smile, which I try to return. Mr. Wilson rolls his eyes and looks away, and Mr. Barnes is unreadable. I guess that comes from being a German spy, or whatever. And Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark looks out the window with a storm in his eyes. I bite my lip at that. I didn’t mean to make him so angry. 

“Hey, Happy?” I say. 

“Yeah?”

“Can you drop me off at my apartment?” 

“Sure, why?” 

“I mean, it is a school night. I have a quiz tomorrow.” 

Beside me, Mr. Wilson snorts. “What?” I say indignantly, turning to him. 

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “God, you’re little.” 

“I already told you, I’m sixteen.” 

Conversation dies after that, leaving another awkward few minutes until we screech to a halt outside my apartment. I look at Mr. Rogers, and bite my lip. 

“Oh, of course,” he says, blinking. He gets out and opens the door for me. 

“Thanks,” I say as I get out. I begin to walk toward the door, but notice someone following me. I turn to see Mr. Wilson, Mr. Barnes, and Mr. Rogers all staring at something behind me. Frowning, I turn back around. 

Then I blink. 

“MJ?” I mutter as I walk toward a sleeping figure at the foot of the stairs up to my apartment. She sits with her knees to her chest, head bowed over her knees. Gently, I tiptoe up to her. 

“You know her?” Mr. Rogers asks. 

“Yeah,” I whisper. Slowly, I reach down and poke her on the nose. She shifts slightly, mumbling something. She’s so cute when she’s sleeping. Why’d she fall asleep out here though? 

All thoughts leave my brain when she rouses, and immediately punches me in the face. 

I stagger backward, holding my nose, which thankfully isn’t broken. “Ow!” I shout. “MJ, what the hell?” 

Mr. Wilson starts laughing behind me, and even Mr. Stark snorts. “Hey,” I say, turning to them. When I look back at MJ, she’s on her feet. 

“Oh, holy shit! I am so sorry,” she says, trying to hold back a laugh herself. “Peter are you okay?” 

“No,” I say. “What was that about?” 

“Instinct! I swear,” she says. “Promise.” 

“Really?” I say, rubbing my nose. 

“Really.”

“Okay, in all seriousness, who is this?” Mr. Rogers says. MJ looks past me, then her eyes widen. 

“Oh,” she says. “Okay.” 

“Steve Rogers,” Mr. Rogers says, holding out his hand. 

MJ frowns, looking at him. “Captain America, huh? What do you think about our current president, then?” 

Mr. Rogers sighs. “I’d punch him in the face if I could.” 

“Hm.” MJ nods. “Good.” She steps forward and shakes his hand. “Michelle Jones.” 

After MJ has been introduced to the others of the group, she looks at me. “So I fell asleep out here waiting for you. Accident, really. I thought I could um, help you with your…homework.” She winks, or tries to. Really she just blinks. 

“Was that supposed to be a wink?” I ask, pointing to her face. 

“Oh come on, I’m trying,” she hisses quietly, crossing her arms and glancing at the car. 

“All right, stop flirting you two,” Mr. Stark calls from the car. “The rest of you, let’s get going. We’ve got a guy to question.” 

“Right,” Mr. Rogers says with a nod. He returns to the car after giving me a nod. MJ looks in the window, and her eyes widen. 

“Sorry, are you James Barnes?” she asks, looking at Mr. Barnes. 

“Bucky,” Mr. Barnes says. “And yeah.” 

“You’ve got a mad tragic backstory. I respect that.” 

He frowns, but nods. “Thanks?” 

She nods back, then straightens and returns to me. I laugh and shake my head. She gives me a playful glare. 

“Kay, we’re heading out,” Happy says from the car. “See you two later.” 

“See you,” I say. 

With that, they drive off. I turn to MJ, and say, “So let’s head up?” 

“Sure,” she says. “Let’s get this sleepover underway.” 

“Sleepover?” I chuckle. 

“Yeah. What else did you think this was?” 

“Dunno. Let’s just head up.” 

“Sure.”


	10. The List

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not publishing a chapter last week! I got super busy getting ready for school. Anyway, here's the next chapter!

A few days later, the following Sunday, I sit in the compound with Ned, MJ, and Mr. Stark in the lab. Ned and MJ were allowed to come here to help look into my parent’s…murder, and I think Ned is about to spontaneously combust from excitement. MJ is thoroughly unimpressed, but I expected that much. It’s awesome how nothing fazes her. Still, I can tell she’s a bit excited, especially earlier, when she stammered introducing herself to Ms. Romanov. Black Widow has been her hero for a long time. 

Now, I dangle from a web on the ceiling, looking upside down at the other three as we surround a hologram listing all that we know about my parents so far. It’s not much, and most of it is just information about their lives. Right now, I’m more interested in how they died. Mostly who did it. 

“So we know it was murder,” MJ says, biting her lip. 

“Yeah,” I say in agreement. “The question is—” 

“Who did it?” Mr. Stark finishes, swiping through internet articles and photos. “We can rule out plenty of suspects. They didn’t divulge their research with many people. I think they had plans to do that later, if they’d lived.” 

“So whoever killed them wanted their research?” I ask. 

“Probably,” Ned says. “I mean, it’s like, the biggest reason for stuff like this. Someone was probably jealous.” 

Mr. Stark speaks up, saying, “Your parents didn’t make many enemies. They were nice people, made friends easily.” 

I hum in agreement, pulling a tab over to me and flipping it upside down to read it. It’s an article from Wikipedia about Richard and Mary Parker. I scroll through it until I get to the part about their work. The biggest thing I can glean from it is Oscorp. 

“What if whoever did it worked as Oscorp? They’d know about my parent’s research, maybe jealous enough to…kill them,” I say. 

Mr. Stark nods. “That’s smart, actually.” A bubble of warmth builds in my chest at his praise. “FRI, pull up a list of all Oscorp employees.” 

A hologram tab appears in front of Mr. Stark, and he scrolls through it. “All right,” he says. “Let’s find out how many of these people knew your parents. FRIDAY, eliminate all who didn’t have a close connection to Richard and Mary Parker.” 

His list nearly vanishes, narrowing down to two names. Mr. Stark sighs deeply, pushing the list over to me. I flip it upside down, and my heart nearly stops. 

Dr. Curtis Connors. Norman Osborn. Those are the only two names on the list. 

“So they’re both suspects?” I say softly. “But…they’re both so nice.” 

“You never know,” Ned says, sounding unsure. “But from what you said, they don’t sound evil. Maybe the list is wrong.” 

“Trust me, FRIDAY is never wrong,” Mr. Stark says. “Most of the time.” 

“Hey,” the AI says. “I take offense at that.” 

“Sorry, sweetie,” Mr. Stark says. “But Pete, at this point we have to consider everyone a suspect.” 

“But, I don’t understand. Why would either of them do something like this? They were my parents’ friends. Really close,” I say. 

Mr. Stark takes a heavy breath. “I know, Pete. But…” 

“I know.” With a grimace, I open a new file and type the names in. “All right, consider this our list of suspects.” I flip it right side up and send it over to Mr. Stark, Ned, and MJ. “What do you guys think?” 

“I think it’s short,” MJ says. “Are we sure about this?” 

“As sure as we can be. Not many people knew about this research. This stuff was top-secret,” Mr. Stark says. Suddenly he frowns, then curses. “Wait.” 

“What?” I say. 

“I’ve got one more name we can add.” 

“Really? Who?” I perk up. 

He closes his eyes, opens them, and says, “James Buchanan Barnes.” 

“What?” I drop from the ceiling, landing on my feet. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I wish I wasn’t. But we can’t rule out the possibility.” 

MJ bites her lip and says, “He’s right. That guy was the world’s top assassin for like, fifty years. Up until really recently. Could he have known about the research?” 

“Maybe, but what would he want it for?” I say. 

“Weapons, probably. I mean, cross-species genetics? Imagine if you could give a human a lizard’s regeneration abilities, or a cheetah’s speed. It’s weaponizable research,” Mr. Stark answers. 

“Do people ever stop trying to make super soldiers?” Ned asks. 

“Not really, no.” 

“Oh.” 

I cross my arms. “I still don’t think Bucky did this.” 

“Bucky didn’t do what?” Mr. Rogers’ voice comes from the doorway. All four of us turn to look as Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, and Mr. Wilson enter. 

“Um, hey guys,” I say, foot tapping nervously. Having Mr. Rogers and Mr. Stark in the same room these days is never a good idea. 

“Oh, nothing, we just think your Bucky over there may have killed Peter’s parents,” Mr. Stark says. 

Case in point. 

Mr. Rogers blinks and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, you what?” 

“Sorry,” I say, stepping in before Mr. Stark can. “It’s just uh, my parents were really smart geneticists, and we just uh…have to consider all the suspects.” My voice trails off until I’m barely whispering. 

Mr. Rogers looks from me to Mr. Stark. “And let me guess, you put this idea in his head Tony?” 

Mr. Stark raises his eyebrows. “And so what if I did?” 

“So, it means that—” 

“Hey,” Mr. Barnes puts a hand on Steve’s arm. “It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay.” 

“Yes, it is.” He sighs. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened when I was under HYDRA’s control. There’s no telling who I did and didn’t kill.” 

At his side, Mr. Wilson shakes his head. “Hate to admit it, but Bucky’s right.” 

“What?” Mr. Rogers says, turning to him. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I am. Look, we all know Bucky did a lot of bad stuff in the past. He could have done this too.” 

Mr. Rogers takes a deep breath in and out through his nose. “Fine. But first, you four have to tell me what’s really going on here. What are we trying to do?” He looks from Mr. Stark, to me, to Ned, to MJ. 

I nod and begin to explain. I tell him everything from my parents’ disappearance when I was four to meeting Dr. Connors and Mr. Osborn. Mr. Rogers keeps a stoic expression throughout it all, but I see something like empathy in his eyes when I talk about my parents’ disappearance. 

“Jeez,” Mr. Wilson says when I finish. “Sorry, kid. That’s rough.” 

“Thank you,” I say, bowing my head. “I just um, really want to find out what happened, if that makes sense.” 

Mr. Rogers nods. “That makes sense. If I was in your shoes, I’d do the same thing.” 

“Oh?” I can’t stop myself from asking. 

“Yeah.” 

“So you have to consider me a suspect,” Mr. Barnes says quietly. Begrudgingly, I nod. 

“Sorry,” I say. 

“It’s okay. I understand,” he says. 

“Well, good.” Mr. Stark claps his hands together. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get back to work kids.” He looks at me and my friends. 

My phone dings in my pocket, and I jump. I pull it out, and bite my lip. 

“Actually Mr. Stark, I think we should be getting back,” I say. 

“Already?” he asks, then look at his watch. “Oh, yeah. Okay then uh, Happy can take you home.” 

“Thank you,” I say, then begin walking out. On my way, I look at Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, and Mr. Wilson, and say again, “Thank you guys too.” 

Mr. Barnes gives me a nod. 

In moments, Ned, MJ and I are walking out of the compound and getting into Happy’s car. 

“Well that didn’t go as bad as I thought it would,” MJ says. 

“What do you mean?” I ask. 

“I mean, getting Tony Stark and Steve Rogers in the same room. They didn’t immediately start a fist fight. I’m impressed. “

A smile finds its way onto my face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. You first,” I say, gesturing for her to get in the car. She does, and Ned follows. I’m about to get in, and that’s when I feel it. 

A slight tingle on the back of my neck. 

I straighten and look around. Nothing. Huh. Shrugging, I get in the car. 

“So how’d it go?” Happy asks as we drive down the highway, passing car after car. 

“Pretty all right,” I say, scratching the back of my neck. That tingle still hasn’t gone away. Usually that means my spider sense is telling me about danger, but I can’t think of anything that could go wrong right now. In fact, today’s been good. Maybe it’s not working right now. 

I lean against the window and stare at a black car adjacent to us. A man with pale skin and dark hair drives it, and he catches me looking at him. He gives a small smile, and I give one back. 

Then he pulls out a gun. 

“Get down!” I shout. Happy swerves as the man fires. We slam into another car, the impact slamming us all together. I turn and look at the pale man with the gun, and gasp as he yanks out the pin on a grenade, then tosses it toward us. 

Before I have a chance to shout, it explodes.


	11. Hospital Talks

The next few moments are a blur. Before I know it, I’m lying face-up on the highway, covered in burns and bruises, a high-pitched whine in my ears. Someone approaches me, standing over me like Death coming for my soul. I shake my head. He pulls out a gun and points it at my head. No, I think to myself. Not here. Not yet. 

Then a repulsor beam blasts him back, and a red-and-gold figure appears. I watch him blast away the other man, a wave of gratitude spreading through my body. The red-and-gold figure runs over to me, face-plate lifting and his mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. 

Darkness comes into my vision, and I let it take me. 

 

\------ 

 

“Peter? Peter. Peter!” 

I jolt awake at the voice, seeing a white ceiling above me. The hell? I turn my head and see a white room filled with medical equipment, with wires sticking out connecting to me. I find the source of the voice when I see May sitting beside me, eyes red and puffy. 

“Oh, thank god,” she sniffles, petting my hair with a hand. 

“Where…where am I?” I say in a croaking voice. 

“I think they call it the med-bay. We’re back at the compound, sweetie.” 

“And a good thing too, or else we’d have to explain to a hospital how all your injuries were healing faster than humanly possible,” says a voice from the door. I look up at Mr. Stark as he walks in, a smile coming onto my face. 

“Hey,” I say. 

“Hey, yourself,” he says. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Fine.” I shift so I’m sitting up, leaning back against a pile of pillows. “What happened?” 

“Don’t remember? I don’t blame you. That was one hell of a blast.” He comes closer and sits on the bed, close to my feet. “You were attacked on the highway. Some hitman hired to get you, I’m guessing.” 

“Hitman?” I ask with a frown. “What, really?” 

“Peter,” Mr. Starks says. “This is the second attempt on your life in a week.” 

“It’s what?” May says, looking straight at me with eyebrows raised. 

I bite my lip, then say, “I was gonna tell you, but I didn’t get the chance. There was just…a lot.” 

“But you have to tell me next time, okay?” Her eyes waver with fear. “We’re talking about this later, you know.”

I nod. “Promise. On both.” 

She smiles, and turns to Mr. Stark. “So can we do? Someone’s…after him?” 

He nods. “That seems to be the case. And I’m gonna take a wild guess and say it has something to do with your parents.” 

I blink. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“Wish I was.” 

I lean further back into the pillows, letting out a long exhale. “Great. So someone’s what, trying to stop me from learning what happened?” 

“That’s my guess,” he says, crossing his arms. “That’s the main reason I can think of, anyway.” 

“So what now?” 

“Now, we protect you,” he says, uncrossing his arms and putting a hand on the bed. “You’re staying here for a few days, okay?” 

“What?” I straighten. “But what about school?” 

“We’re having all your assignments and tests and things sent here, sweetie,” May says.

“What, so I’m just living here?” 

“For now,” she says. 

I shrug. “Sure, that’s…great.” 

“I know you’re not happy about it,” she says, leaning forward. “I know you want to be normal, but sweetie, if someone’s trying to hurt you, then we need to keep you safe.”   
“It’s not that I’m not happy about it,” I say. “I’m fine staying here. You guys are awesome,” I say with a look at Mr. Stark. “But I need to keep looking for answers. And I can’t do that trapped here.” 

May bites her bottom lip and looks down. “Yes. There is that.” 

“I may have a solution to that,” Mr. Stark pipes up. 

“Really?” I ask. 

“We can keep working on this little mystery of ours here, if you like. Where we can look after you. After all, it’s not like I can’t hack into every database on the planet. If I can’t find what we’re looking for, no one can.” 

I grin. “Sure. Thanks, Mr. Stark.” 

“No problem. Oh, and…” He turns toward the door. “I swore they were coming in…” 

Within seconds, the door bangs open, and MJ runs over to me, smothering me in a hug. Ned piles on top, and all the air leaves my body. 

“Well, this is one way to die,” I croak from underneath them. 

“Sorry,” Ned says, backing away with a chuckle. “We’re just like, super glad you’re okay.” 

MJ pulls away as well, keeping a hand on my shoulder. I look over her, seeing a bandaged cut on her forehead and left arm. A pit of anger bubbles in my stomach. How dare someone hurt my friends? My girlfriend? 

“You sure you’re okay?” she says. 

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She gives a tiny smile. I give a bigger one, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 

“Gross,” Mr. Stark says. 

I laugh, and lean back against the pillows again. “So what now? Shouldn’t we be questioning those guys who tried to kill me?” 

Mr. Stark looks at me, then away. He takes a breath through his nose. “Well, about that.” 

“What?” I say. 

He pulls his sunglasses out of his chest pocket and puts them on. “You ever heard of cyanide capsules?” 

My eyes widen. “Like in spy movies?” 

He sighs. “They both had them. Swallowed them before we could get any information out of them. I’m sorry Peter. But they’re both dead.” 

A chill sets into my bones. My heartbeat accelerates, and my hands ball into fists. “That’s…awful.” 

He nods. “I have to agree with you there. Sorry, Pete.” 

I cross my arms over my chest, as if that will protect me from the news somehow. MJ’s hand squeezes my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. I meet her eyes and hope she senses my gratitude. 

“So we’re at a dead end again,” she states, looking from me to Mr. Stark. 

“Not necessarily,” Mr. Stark says. “I’m trying to find evidence from the crash, something we can use. But I can’t find anything. Still, I’m looking.” 

Ned nods in agreement. “Yeah, I tried looking too. They’re blocked. Still, give me a few days, and I might be able to find something?” 

Mr. Stark looks at Ned. “Hey, kid.” 

“Yeah?” Ned perks up. 

“You want to look for those case files using my stuff? My tech for that’s just a few rooms away.” 

Ned’s eyes widen, and he smiles. “Yes,” he says, way too fast. I laugh.“That uh, sounds great, sir,” he says, calming down. 

“In the meantime, Peter, I have a question for you,” Mr. Stark says looking at me. 

“Sure,” I say. 

“What do you remember about the night your parents left?” 

I freeze. “Nothing. Why?” 

He removes his sunglasses. “Because you were the only one who might have a clue as to what happened. You were the only one there besides Ben and May, right?” 

“Actually, I was in the other room when they left,” May says, voice soft. “They were talking to Ben and Peter. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. They sounded in a hurry, though.” She sniffles. “I just thought they were going on a trip, or something.” 

“Okay,” Mr. Stark says. “Then that leaves you, Peter. Can you tell me what you remember?” 

“I already told you, I don’t remember anything,” I say. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.”

“Are you really sure?” 

“Yes!” I say, louder. “What does that even have to do with anything?” 

“Because it might give us a clue,” he says. “Something we haven’t seen yet, something we’re missing. 

I sigh. “I’ll try to remember, okay? But if I don’t, don’t blame me.” 

He rises to his feet. “That’s all I can ask for. Thank you, Peter.” 

“Sure.”

With that, he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. I slouch, letting the pillows encase me. 

“You all right?” May asks, putting her hand on mine. 

“Yeah,” I say. “But what I can’t remember something? And then, what if I do? What if it’s bad? What if it’s…What if it hurts?” 

She moves her hand to my cheek. “I know. But even if you do remember something, that’s good, isn’t it? It’s a touch of your parents, the greatest people I ever knew. A memory would be good, don’t you think?” 

“I guess.” 

“I think she’s right,” MJ says. “And if you do remember something helpful, even better.” 

“Yeah,” I say, nodding slowly. “Maybe you’re right.” 

Suddenly, something rings from the floor. We all startle, and May looks down, pulling up her purse. She reaches a hand into it and pulls out my phone. She hands it to me, and I thank her. 

The contact name on the screen reads: Mr. Osborn. 

With a rush, I answer it and put the phone to my ear. “Sir?” I ask. 

“Hello, Peter. I was wondering if you might like to look over some of your parents’ research this week?” 

“I’d love to, but…you’re not going to believe what happened to me!”


	12. Decision Making

Twenty minutes later, I’ve explained everything to Mr. Osborn. He’s about as shocked as I expected, which is very. When I mention the attempts on my life, he spends about fifteen of those twenty minutes making sure I’m okay, am I all right, do I have any injuries, etc. I lie and tell him I’m unharmed, which makes things easier. I’m not about to talk about my injuries then show up to a meeting with him with none. 

When I hang up the phone, May raises her eyebrows. 

“What?” I say. 

“Nothing,” she says, holding up a hand. 

“It’s Norman Osborn,” I say. “He’s um, helping me find out what happened to…well, you know.” 

She straightens. “Like, the Norman Osborn?” She nods slowly. “You sure have a lot of famous friends.” 

I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“So what was Mr. Stark talking about?” MJ says from beside me. “You know, about your memories giving you a clue.” 

“Well…I think he was thinking that if I remember something, it could tell us who did it. Who killed my parents, I mean. Cause I don’t know, I mean, I was like the only one there except for Ben and my parents.” 

MJ frowns. “But Peter…you were four.” 

“So?” 

“So how can you remember something from back then?” 

“I don’t know,” I say, voice sharpening. At MJ’s widening eyes, I quickly say, “Sorry. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to remember something from years ago. I mean, it’s not like I can visualize it, right?” 

Ned bites his lip, then says, “Maybe you can.” 

“What?” 

“Remember back before you went to Germany? There was this article about Mr. Stark giving a bunch of college students money for their research.” 

“But what does that have to do with—” 

“I’m getting to that. Before he gave the money, there was like, this thing he did. He used holograms to make his memories real in front of him. He called it…B.A.R.F.?”

I laugh. “Seriously?” 

“I dunno!” Ned says, throwing his hands up and grinning. “That’s what he called it. But you should ask him about it.” 

I nod slowly, then cross my arms. “Maybe. Yeah. You’re right.” 

“Good luck though, okay Peter?” MJ puts her arm around my shoulder. 

I give her a smile. “I’ll be okay. I promise.” 

“Good.” 

 

\------- 

 

The next day, I’m feeling good enough to get off my butt and walk around the compound, at least using crutches. Apparently that stupid explosion broke my left foot. May, Ned, and MJ are all at home, so that leaves me here alone. I’ve just closed the door to my room and am making my way down the hallway when the back of my neck prickles. I turn around and say, 

“Hey.” 

Mr. Barnes blinks and says, “Damn. It’s hard to sneak up on you.” 

I chuckle. “Yeah, um, I’ve got like this…sixth sense thing? Something the spider bite gave me. But um, why did you sneak up on me?” 

He sighs. “I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Sure.” 

He crosses his arms and says, “Do you think it was me?” His tone sounds resigned, like he thinks he knows what I’m going to say. For a second I don’t know what he means, then it hits me. He think he killed my parents. 

“No,” I say. 

“What?” he says. 

“I don’t think you did it. I mean, sure, you’re still on the list. But um, no. I don’t think you…you know.” 

“Right.” He nods. “I know I’m not cleared of suspicion, but still. Thank you.” 

I smile, and he gives a small one back. “You’re welcome, Mr. Barnes,” I say. 

“Oh, you can call me Bucky.” 

My smile widens. “Bucky. Cool.” I purse my lips, then say, “Have you seen Mr. Stark?” 

He scoffs. “I try to avoid the guy whenever possible. But yeah, I know where he is. He’s in the workshop, tinkering on something. He tends to do that when stressed, or so I’ve heard.” 

“Huh,” I say. “Thanks. Hopefully I’ll um, see you around?” 

“Sure, kid.” 

With that, I turn and limp towards the workshop. In moments I’m there, opening the door with a crutch. 

“Mr. Stark?” I call. As I open the door, I blink in surprise. The place is covered with parts of Iron Man suits, with Mr. Stark in the middle, sitting on the floor. He’s bent over a piece of leg armor, tinkering at it, just like Mr. Barnes—Bucky, said. “Mr. Stark?” I say again. 

He looks up, jumping slightly. 

“Sorry. Did I scare you?” 

“No, no,” he says. “Just, shouldn’t you be resting?” 

“I’m good,” I say as I enter, pushing a face plate out of the way. “Super healing, remember?” 

He nods. “Right.” He swallows thickly and looks back down. 

“Mr. Stark, are you okay?” 

He nods again. “Yeah, fine.” 

“But you only work like this when you’re stressed.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I feel my face flush. “Sorry.” 

He sighs and looks back up at me. Putting the armor plating down, he says, “No, you’re right. Sorry, Pete.” He pats the ground beside him. “Come on, sit.” 

I make my way over to him, walking around armor pieces and inward workings until I arrive beside him. Carefully I sit down, putting my crutches behind me. “Yeah?” I ask.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Peter.” 

“For what?” 

“Kid, you’ve had two attempts on your life. What do you think I’m sorry for?” 

I straighten. “But those weren’t your fault.” 

“I wasn’t there to protect you. I should have been.” He cradles his left wrist, looking anywhere but at me. My senses pick up on his shaking, and his heavy breathing. I reach out and put my hand on his knee. 

“It wasn’t your fault. Really. It was whoever’s doing this. I don’t know who it is, but we’re going to find out. It’ll be fine. I promise.” I give him a smile. He finally looks at me, and releases a long breath. I do too, when I feel his breathing even out. I remove my hand from his knee and cross my arms. “So I had an idea.” 

He smirks. “Uh-oh.” 

“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” I say with a grin. “But seriously. I think I know how I can remember what happened.” 

He frowns. “Oh?” 

“Remember B.A.R.F?” 

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you gonna be sick?” 

“No! No. That hologram tech you used to make your memories appear in front of you. It was called B.A.R.F. right?” 

He takes a deep breath, then nods slowly. “Yeah…” 

“So can it help me remember?” 

He bites his lip. “Yes. It can.” 

“So can I use it? Please?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe?” I say. “Why, what’s wrong with me using it?” 

“Peter…think about it. I know what I said. I want you to remember what happened. But as soon as I left the room, I realized what I’d suggested. I don’t want to bring up anything…painful.” 

“But—” 

“Peter, I know how hard it is losing parents. But I wasn’t as young as you were. You’ve lived a life without parents, and for all I know, that’s even harder than what I went through. But I just need to you, if you really want to do this, that you’re going to be okay.” 

I nod. “I will be.” 

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure. Really, really sure.” 

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Fine. Then you’re going to need this.” He rises and walks over to a cabinet, opening it up and pulling out a small box. He walks back over and opens the box. Inside it is a small headset, just big enough to fit around my head. “I’ve updated it a little after my last use of it. Now, it can access memories that you don’t even remember, by going deep into your brain and pulling them out.” 

“Ew.” 

He chuckles. “Relax, it’s not as gross as it sounds. Now I’m going to ask you again, are you sure?” 

I nod. “Yeah. Really sure.” 

“Good. Now, let’s clean this up so we can get going.” He gestures around the room. 

We spend the next twenty minutes getting everything off the floor, sorting it all and putting it away. As soon as we’re done, I walk back over and hold out my hand. 

“So, should I put it on now?” 

“Sure.” He takes it out of the box, and puts it over my head. After pressing a button on the side, he walks around the room, pressing buttons that I didn’t even see on the walls. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Just turning on the holograms. This should work…” He trails off, then walks back over to me. “All right. Let’s do this.” He claps his hands together. 

“But how do I do it? Like, access the memory?” 

“All you have to do is think back. Just get the night your parents left in your mind, and B.A.R.F. will take care of the rest.” 

“Ok…okay, cool.” I take a deep breath, close my eyes, then open them again. When I do, I gasp. 

I’m not in the lab anymore. Instead, I stand in a small foyer of a small house, with a door to my right and a hallway to my left. Directly in front of me, a set of stairs leads off to another floor. I look behind me, and see a living room, complete with a piano, a sofa, and chairs. Turning back around, I look at Mr. Stark. Because thank goodness he’s still here. 

“Recognize this?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” I say, voice tiny. “My house.”


	13. B.A.R.F.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry for not updating for like, two weeks. School has been really busy and I haven't gotten a chance to write much. But you can have this chapter early! Thanks so much for reading!

Before I can say anything else, a high voice echoes down the hallway. 

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five…” As soon as the voice reaches ‘one’, a young boy comes running. He can’t be more than four years old. At first I freeze, because I know who that is. He looks so innocent. Hasn’t lost parents yet, hasn’t lost Ben. But I miss being that boy. Before I know it, a slight smile comes onto my face, and I say, 

“It’s me.” 

Mr. Stark stiffens beside me. 

Little Peter looks up the stairs, a grin on his tiny face. “Mommy?” he calls. “Daddy? I’m coming to find you!”

Wind echoes behind me, and Little Peter must hear it too, because he runs through my body, which is super weird, and comes to a large window in the living room. Two feet peek from behind the curtain. “Found you, Daddy!” 

He pulls back the curtain, only to jump back as a broom, carefully balanced on a pair of shoes, falls forward. I frown. “I don’t remember that,” I say. 

“That’s because you don’t,” Mr. Stark says softly beside me. “It’s deep in your subconscious, these memories.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure about this? We can exit anytime you want.” 

“No,” I say, swallowing thickly. “I gotta see what happened.” Even as I say this, my hands shake. I ball them into fists. 

Little Peter runs past the piano, and the room around us fades into another hallway, this time with a door ajar a few feet away. Little Peter races to the door, and looks in. Mr. Stark and I do, too. 

The sight makes my stomach drop. 

Neither Little Peter nor I move as we watch the movement inside. Because there’s my father and mother, moving frantically about the room. It’s a beautiful room, with oak paneling and a large window, bookshelves on one wall and a large blackboard on the other. On second glance, the blackboard is covered in research, which I can barely decipher. When I realize what it is, when I see the double zero’s at the top of the board, a cold shock runs down my spine. 

“They’re working on the spiders,” I whisper. A second glance around the room leads me to a small glass dome on the desk, in which lies a frozen, dead spider. Holy shit.   
But then I look at my parents, and all other thoughts fly out of my head. 

My father is just as I barely remember him, with the same glasses I now wear. His hair is graying, but he has a kind look to him, judging by the laughter lines on his face and crow’s feet around his eyes. My mother has the same wrinkles, but her long brown hair is loose around her shoulders, curling just as mine does. So that’s where I got my curls.   
A hand on my shoulder startles me, and I look over at Mr. Stark. 

“Remember what we’re here to find,” he says, reluctance lacing his tone. 

“Yeah, I know.” I nod, and look back to my parents. Now that I look at them, I can see the worry plain on both their faces. No, not worry. Panic. Mom’s eyes are wide, and Dad shakes as he gathers papers, shoving them into a briefcase that I recognize. 

“No, Richard,” Mom says, moving over to him. “Leave the papers. Just erase that.” She points at the blackboard. 

“Right,” he agrees quickly, and goes over to the blackboard. He grabs an eraser and begins wiping it down, moving so fast he’s soon covered in chalk. 

“Mommy? Daddy?” Little Peter asks. 

Mom and Dad both freeze, and look slowly down at me…well, little me. 

“Oh, baby, come here,” Mom says, reaching down for Little Peter and picking him up. “Mommy and Daddy are…going on a little trip, okay? Just for a little while.” 

“But I thought we were playing hide and seek,” Little Peter whines. 

“We were,” Mom says. “But things have, well, changed. It’ll be okay, I promise.” Her voice shakes, and she presses a kiss to my, his, forehead. “Oh, Peter.” She hugs him tight.

As I watch, my chest begins to ache, tightening with every second. My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes. 

“How could I have been so stupid? They were running from someone. Why didn’t I do anything?” I mutter. 

“Peter, you were four,” Mr. Stark says beside me. “There was nothing you could have done.” He sounds just as torn up as me. 

“But still…” 

“Come on, Pete.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Let’s just keep watching for a little, okay? Just till we find something.” 

I nod, wiping my now running nose. “Okay.” 

Before I know it, the room fades again, this time materializing into the foyer of May and Ben’s apartment. I recognize the place, but it’s a little different. There are no pictures of me yet, except for one on the wall of me, Mom, and Dad. None of my toys are here yet. The couch in the center of the living room isn’t stained by the time I spilled Ben’s coffee yet. 

May and Ben themselves stand in the center of the room, joined by Mom, Dad, and little me. I’m shocked by how young they look. May doesn’t have as many wrinkles as she does now, and Ben looks so…alive. Just the sight of him makes me sniffle. 

“We can still go, you know,” Mr. Stark says. 

“Not yet,” I say. “I have to get a clue, or something.” Whoever killed my parents, these two vibrant people in front of me, has to be found. I have to make sure they pay.

“So can you take him, just for awhile?” Mom asks May. 

“Of course,” she says. She crouches down, reaching out for Little Peter. “Hey, little man,” she says. “You ready to stay with Uncle Ben and I for a little bit?”

Little Peter nods, but holds tight to Mom’s hand. 

May smiles, then rises to her feet. “Okay, I’ll get his room ready. You two be careful.” She reaches out and hugs Mom and Dad. The hugs seem so short. 

“She doesn’t know,” I whisper. “None of them knew.” 

But looking at Mom and Dad, they probably did know what fate awaited them. Mom is on the verge of tears, bottom lip trembling, and while Dad holds himself firm, I can see his eyes watering. They knew they would never see me again. 

Mom crouches down and brushes my hair back. “Remember what he likes,” she says, voice shaking. “He doesn’t like crust on his sandwiches. He likes to sleep with a little light on at night.” 

One tear escapes my eye, and then I start full-on crying. The tears stream down my face, and my sobs shake my entire body. Distantly I feel Mr. Stark’s hand on my back, and I hear him say, 

“Okay, let’s get out of here.” 

“No,” I say, furiously wiping my cheeks. “Someone did this to my parents. I want to find out who.” 

“Fine,” Mr. Stark says with a sigh. “But let’s not stay here too long.” 

I turn back to Mom, Dad, and Ben just in time to see Mom lean in and whisper something to Ben. I lean in closer, but I can barely hear. This could be something important. A clue. I step closer, and finally I can hear what she’s saying. 

“I wish we didn’t have to,” she says. “There’s a good chance we…well, nevermind.” She sniffles. “Just, you know how Connors gets.” 

A lightning bolt of shock shoots through me. Because that can’t be right. Connors? As in Dr. Curtis Connors? 

In a quick movement I remove the headpiece and toss it away. The image dissolves, leaving Mr. Stark and I back in the lab. 

“That can’t be right,” I say. “It just can’t be.” 

“She said Connors,” Mr. Stark sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, shit.” 

“This can’t be right,” I insist. “Maybe she meant something else. But if she didn’t…” If she meant what she said, then that means Dr. Connors, the nice Dr. Connors, murdered my parents. It means that his kindness was all an act. To fool me. 

A pit of anger festers in my stomach, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming. He lied to me. That has to be it. 

I pull out my phone with a flourish, then dial Mr. Osborn’s number. “Give me one second,” I say, voice quivering. I step out of the room, slamming the door behind me. “Pick up, pick up,” I hiss. 

Finally, he picks up. “Peter?” he says. “How can I help you?” 

“It was Connors,” I say quickly. “Connors did it.” 

A moment of silence. “I knew this would happen. I knew you’d figure it out.” 

“So I was right?” My heartbeat quickens. 

Mr. Osborn releases a breath. “I never told you this. I didn’t want to. But Curtis was always jealous of your parents. His research never matched theirs. He tried to replicate their formula back before they passed, but it didn’t work.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” 

“Because I was afraid it would hurt you,” he says, resigned. “I’m afraid I was right.” 

“It’s okay. I’m fine. At this point, I just need to find him.” 

“And when you do? What will you do?” 

I grit my teeth. “I’ll make sure he goes to prison, that’s what.” 

“I see. Good luck then, Mr. Parker.” 

“Thank you.” With that, I hang up. Mr. Stark steps out of the lab behind me, and asks, 

“Who was that?” 

“Mr. Osborn. He said Dr. Connors was always jealous of my parents. He even tried to replicate their formula. What if he killed them because of that, Mr. Stark?” My voice is strained, but I keep talking. “What if he—” 

Mr. Stark holds up a hand. “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” he says. “Why don’t we visit him?” 

I nod. “Sure. Let’s go.” 

“Right now?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay,” he says with a shrug. “But Peter.” He looks me in the eye. “Don’t get too angry.” 

“I’ll…I’ll try.” 

“That’s all I can ask for.”


	14. Paying a Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When will I learn to update regularly? Who even knows

I open and slam the car door as soon as Mr. Stark stops in Dr. Connors’ driveway, hopping out onto the pavement. 

“Peter,” Mr. Stark calls, but I barely listen. All I can see is the doorway in front of me, and the man who I know is behind it. As soon as I reach the door, I knock hard a few times, leaving a dent in the wood. 

“Dr. Connors!” I shout. “Hello?” 

The door opens, revealing a concerned Dr. Connors. He looks me up and down before saying, 

“Is everything all right?” 

I ball my hands into fists. This is the man who killed my parents. “You—” I begin, before my gaze lands on his missing arm. “How did you lose your arm?” 

He looks down, then back up. “Oh, this? Military service. I was—” 

“Are you sure it wasn’t a plane crash?” 

“Why, yes. What is all this about? Are you quite sure you’re all right?” 

Steps behind me let me know that Mr. Stark has arrived. “Yeah, he’s fine,” Mr. Stark says. “We just have a few questions for you.” Mr. Stark’s voice is cool and angry. 

“Did you kill my parents?” I blurt out. 

Dr. Connors looks at me for several seconds, blinking with wide eyes. He wipes his forehead with his hand and says, 

“Is that what this is about? My goodness.” 

“Yeah,” I say, biting down on the word. “Just…why? Why the hell would you do it? They were your friends.” 

He sighs. “You’d better come inside. You need the full story.” 

 

\------

 

Moments later, Mr. Stark and I once again sit on Dr. Connors’ couch. No cups of tea in our hands though; I think I might shatter it if I held one. Dr. Connors sits across from us in a chair, looking nervous. Good. 

“So what’s this full story?” Mr. Stark asks. I’m glad he’s asking the questions. Frankly I’m too furious to do any talking. This man was my parents’ friend. How could he do that to them? They trusted him. He even remembers the day I was born. How could he? 

Dr. Connors gulps and sips his tea. “Well, it started a long time ago, I suppose.” 

Mr. Stark holds up a hand. “We’re going to need the quick version, and a couple of good reasons why we shouldn’t call the cops and arrest you right now.” 

He nods. “Of course,” he says. “What you need to know first is I didn’t kill them. I’ve never killed anyone, and I certainly never will. And not your parents,” he says, looking at me. “They were the kindest people I ever knew. I would never.” 

“Stop lying,” I say through gritted teeth. 

“I’m not. I swear. Please, you have to believe me Peter, I didn’t kill your parents.” 

“Then who else could it have been?” I shout, rising to my feet. “I remembered what happened that night, you know. I saw my parents talking to my uncle, and they mentioned your name. They said, ‘you know how Connors gets’. What else could they have meant other than that you were trying to kill them?” 

Dr. Connors stares up at me for several seconds. The tension in the air is so tight, I want to rip it in half. 

Finally he bows his head. Mr. Stark puts a hand on my leg, and I sit back down, still grimacing. 

“I know you did it,” I say. “Just…tell me why.” 

“I didn’t do it,” Dr. Connors says after a few seconds. 

“That’s not what Mr. Osborn says.” 

He scoffs. “Oh, that man.” 

“Yeah, that man. He’s been helpful to me. He said you were jealous of my parents, that you even tried to replicate their research.” 

The man sighs, then rubs a hand over his head. “Yes, I was jealous once upon a time. We’d been friends for awhile, and we’d each done our own research. But your parents always got the results they wanted, rarely had a failed experiment. And when they bred the spiders, it was perfect. They’d gotten everything they desired. And yes, I was jealous. I mean look at me.” He gestures to his missing arm. “Imagine if I could grow back my arm using a lizard’s DNA. I did try to replicate their research. Wouldn’t you, if you were me? But it didn’t work.” He shakes his head. “Even though I tried my best. For awhile, I was…bitter. Angry. But then one night, I had dinner with your parents, and they talked me down. I realized the error in my research, and all that. But I never tried again. Because your parents made me realize that I was doing the research from a place of anger. That’s never how science should be done.” He sips his tea once more. “And from then on we were close friends again.” 

Part of me doesn’t want to process what I just heard. Because if what he said is true, then he really didn’t… Could I really be so wrong? All the evidence thus far points to him. But what if I made a mistake somewhere, passed over something I shouldn’t have? 

“Peter,” Mr. Stark says, leaning over. “I don’t think he did it.” 

Slowly, I nod. “Yeah. You may be right.” I look back over at Dr. Connors. “So you really didn’t do it?” 

“No.” 

“I just want to check something, though,” Mr. Stark says. “Your alibi. You said you were upstate in a private laboratory that no longer exits. That’s awfully convenient for you.”

He nods. “Yes, that’s true. It was torn down a few years ago.” Suddenly, he straightens and blinks. “I was actually at a conference at the time. Yes, I remember. It was a biology conference in Albany.” 

“Wait, Albany?” Mr. Stark pulls out his phone. “I think I know the place. Was it the Johnson Conference Center?” 

“Yes,” Dr. Connors says. “You know it?” 

“Let me check something…” He trails off, pulling something up on his phone. “The camera records should still exist from back then, and with a little expert hacking…Ah-ha.” An image forms in the air of Dr. Connors at a podium, speaking in front of an audience. “There you are, Dr. Connors, right at the time of the crash.”

A breath leaves my body. “So you didn’t do it.” 

“No, I did not.” 

“And you didn’t hire anyone to?” I ask. “Sorry, I just have to make sure.” 

“No, I didn’t. It’s quite all right, Peter,” he says. “Being thorough is good.” 

I give a wry smile. “Sorry for barging in, then. I’m…really sorry about all this.” 

He smiles back. “I don’t mind at all. I’m just glad you’re pursuing this. For years I’ve wondered what happened to them. Now, we might actually find out, thanks to you.” 

I shrug, grinning. “Well, thanks.” After a moment, I stand. “I guess we should get out of here, then,” I say to Mr. Stark. 

He nods. “Yep.” 

“Thanks again,” I say to Dr. Connors. 

“You’re very welcome.” He rises as well, and walks Mr. Stark and I to the door. “A very good night to you both.” 

“You too,” I say, and he closes the door behind us. 

As soon as the door closes, I release a breath. “So that was pointless.” 

“Not entirely,” Mr. Stark says, pulling out his phone. He pulls up our list, then crosses a name off. “We’ve just narrowed it down to two suspects.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” I walk toward the car. “But now we’re basically back to square one.” 

“Maybe, maybe not.” Mr. Stark unlocks the car and we hop in. As soon as we’re driving down the road again, he says quietly, “I’ve never seen you so angry.” 

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “Sorry about that.” 

“No, it’s okay,” he says. “I was even angrier when I found out what Bucky did to my parents. Honestly, you were tame compared to me.” He chuckles, and I join in. 

“True,” I say. “So should we head home? And by home, I mean my apartment.” 

“Nice try, but not yet. Remember, someone’s still after you.” 

“Oh, yeah,” I say, slouching down in my seat. “Dang.” 

“It’s all right, we’ll get this taken care of soon, and then you can go back to school. Okay?” 

I smile, then nod. “Okay.”


	15. Crossing off a Name

The next morning at the compound, I sit by the big window in the main room, looking over the lawn, listless. What the hell am I supposed to do now? Was it all pointless? 

Okay, that might be overstating things. I know the search isn’t over. There’s still two more names on the list. But those two names can’t possibly be right. Mr. Osborn is helping me, for crying out loud. And Mr. Barnes—Bucky? He’s just so nice. There’s no way. 

But there are always the little whispers in my brain, telling me that maybe Mr. Osborn is lying. That maybe Bucky really did kill them, because it’s true that he used to be a ruthless killer. But I can’t deny the part of me that just firmly believes that neither of them did it. I can feel it in my heart. And that can’t be wrong, can it? 

Someone taps my shoulder. I look up to see MJ giving me a small smile. 

“Can I sit?” she asks, gesturing to the spot on the floor next to me. I nod, and she settles down beside me. “So what’s up?” 

“Just thinking,” I say. 

“Oh that’s never good.” 

I laugh a little. 

She smirks. “There it is.” 

I bite down on a grin, and say, “So what’s up with you? Come to check on me?” 

“Not like I can go anywhere.” 

“But can’t you go back to school? I mean, no one’s after you.” 

She shakes her head. “Mr. Stark said I shouldn’t. And besides, even if I could…” she trails off, looking at me. A blush rises to my cheeks, and I look down. She chuckles. “Someone’s got to look after you, dumbass.” 

“Yeah,” I say with a light smile. “Thanks.” 

We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes until I shrug and say, “I’m just not sure.” 

“Sure of what?” 

“What to do next. I mean, I guess we have to cross the other names off the list. Got to look into them, at least. I just don’t think either of them did it.” 

“What, Osborn and Barnes?” 

“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “I don’t feel it around either of them.” I lean against the window and look out. 

“You’re talking about spider sense, right?” 

“Maybe. It’s just a gut feeling I’ve got.” 

She shrugs. “You’ve got a point. I mean, I did find some things while looking with Ned.” 

I straighten so fast I bang my head against one of the metal supports on the window. MJ laughs for a good minute before calming down. 

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” I ask. “You couldn’t led with that.” 

“I know, but I wanted to see how you were doing. And now that I know…” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and shows me her YouTube page. 

“So…what’s this?” I say dubiously. 

“Just look.” She taps the screen, hitting play on a video. It’s about ten years old, of Mr. Osborn speaking at a conference. “This is from a military conference ten years ago. It goes through the time of the murder.” She looks at me and smiles. “This means Osborn’s not our guy.” 

A wave of relief shoots through me, and all my muscles relax. “So you’re sure? He didn’t hire anyone?” 

“It’s unlikely,” she says. “Although we should still check on that.” 

I nod. “Course.” After a moment, a jolt of chilling realization runs down my spine. “But Bucky—” 

“Didn’t do it either.” She pulls up google. “Remember how Black Widow—Natasha, put all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s secret files out on the internet years ago? Well, there was a list of the Winter Soldier’s kills in there.” She grins. “And guess what. He was killing someone else the night of your parents’ murder.” 

“That’s supposed to be good?” I frown. 

She rolls her eyes. “I thought I was helping you feel better, but whatever.” 

“No, no!” I lean forward, putting my hands on hers. She blushes. “Seriously, thank you, MJ. This is great.” 

“Yeah…but this means our list is empty now. We don’t have any suspects.” 

I lean against the window again, sighing. “Shit.” 

She raises her eyebrows. “Don’t let Stark hear you talking like that.” 

I chuckle lightly. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do. In fact, I need to go tell Stark what we found.” 

“Tell me what?” Both MJ and I jump as Mr. Stark comes up to us, sitting opposite us on the floor. “You’re getting married already?” 

“No!” we say simultaneously, faces turning red. 

Mr. Stark laughs, holding up a hand. “Fine, then what’s up?”

“I just found info that can cross the other two names off our list,” MJ says, holding out her phone to him. After she shows him the video and the kill list, she leans back. Mr. Stark wipes a hand through his hair, breathing out. 

“Well,” he says. “Dang.” 

“Right? I’m not sure what to do.” I cross my arms. “I mean, this narrows our suspect list down to zero. Not that I don’t appreciate the effort on your part,” I say, gesturing to MJ.   
“But I think I should talk to Mr. Osborn.” 

Mr. Stark frowns. “Him again?” 

“Yeah, him again.” At Mr. Stark’s deepening scowl, I say, “What? He’s been helpful. He’s given me my parent’s research, and everything.” 

“But he did point you towards Connors.” 

“Yeah, so? What he said wasn’t wrong. Dr. Connors didn’t deny any of it.” 

Mr. Stark nods. “Sure…but still.” 

“You’re just jealous Peter’s spending more time with him than you,” MJ says flatly. 

Mr. Stark jolts and looks at MJ. “Am not.” 

“Are so.” 

“Am not!” 

“As fun at this is,” I interject, holding a hand between them. “Can we get back to um, the thing?” 

“You mean the murder?” MJ says. 

“Yeah, that. So if we have no suspects now, now what?” 

Mr. Stark sighs. “There is one thing we haven’t tried.” 

“What?” I ask. 

“Remember those files that were blocked? I tried to hack into them.” 

“The case files?” 

“Those are the ones. I even tried filing a formal request for them from the police. The chief himself told me no. Apparently even though you’re the son of the deceased, he still won’t hand them over. Sounded like someone wanted him to keep quiet, if you ask me.” 

My brow furrows. “Really? But who would…” 

“Dunno. But that’s all we’ve got to go on, and I think we should look into it.” 

I nod. “No, I agree.” 

“Good. Your friend Ned can help too. He’s the one who hacked my suit, after all.” 

I grin. “Yeah.” 

“Hello, I’m here too,” MJ says, picking her nails. 

“I know.” I take her hand. “So wanna help out?” 

“Do I want to help hack a corrupt police organization? You don’t even need to ask.” 

I laugh. “Lol, thanks, MJ.” 

She gives me a flat look. “If you ever say that to me again, I’m gonna stab you in the eye.” 

I flinch. 

Mr. Stark laughs. “God, you two are adorable. Anyway, we’d better get hacking. Gotta do this as soon as possible so you all can get back to school.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” I say. I rise to my feet, pulling MJ up with me. As soon as Mr. Stark walks away toward the lab, I stand on tiptoe to give MJ a quick kiss. “And thanks, MJ. Love you.” 

She looks away. “L-love you too.” Her cheeks are flaming, and I grin. 

“Come on,” I say. “We’ve got hacking to do.”


	16. In Which I Have Way Too Much Fun Hacking

“Pass the salt and vinegar chips?” 

“Here.” 

“Hey, you didn’t have to throw them at me!” 

“Just keep working.” 

“I’m trying!” 

“Hey, can you two lovebirds keep quiet, I’m trying to work.” 

“Yeah, me too. Could you guys keep it down?” 

“Sure, sure.” 

MJ, Ned, Mr. Stark and I’s chatter fills the room as we all sit at our own computers in the lab. Surrounding us is every snack known to man, from Cheetos to yogurt-covered raisins. Hey, MJ likes them. We’ve also gathered pillows and blankets, and I currently sit on a pillow. 

“How long have we even been down here?” I ask, pulling another chip from the bag. 

Mr. Stark doesn’t respond, just points to the hologram clock at the center of the room. It was 1:00 pm when we started. It’s…6:30 already? 

“Holy shit,” I mutter, looking back to my computer. 

“Language.” 

“Sorry,” I say through my chewing. My computer is covered with green text as I try to hack through the firewall blocking the files. It’s one hell of a wall, though. I mean, we’ve been working for hours. We may be like, 20 percent of the way through the wall? If that? 

But we have to keep working. My hands shake as I type, and I swallow thickly. The secret to my parents’ deaths could be hiding at the other end of this wall. All I have to do is get there. 

At first, the computer asked for a password to get access to the files. Since we didn’t have that, we started working on a way to hack through the firewall. It’s painstaking work, but we have to do it. 

“Making any progress?” Ned asks through a yawn. 

“Nope,” I say, popping the last syllable. “You?” 

“Ha, no. I wish.” 

“This is boring,” MJ says from her position on a table. “Shouldn’t you guys have hacked it by now?” 

“Why are you here again?” Mr. Stark asks. “You’re not hacking with us.” 

“Moral support,” she says, tossing a grape in her mouth. 

“Huh.” He turns back to his work with a confused expression. I chuckle and rise to my feet, joining MJ on the table. 

“You okay?” she says quietly enough that no one else will hear. 

I nod. “I’m doing my best.” 

“That’s good.” She leans in and kisses my cheek. “I’m here for you, kay?” 

“I know.” 

“Good.” She smiles and pats my shoulder. “Now get back to work. That hacking won’t do itself.” 

I laugh. “Yeah, I know.” I hop off the table and return to my laptop. As soon as I sit down, I sigh. This is gonna be a long night. 

Before I know it, I’m neck-deep back in my work. My hands fly over the keyboard, and my eyes flit over the screen, looking over every piece of code that flies through my vision. Man, this firewall is tough. I mean, it was designed by a genius after all. 

“How long do you think this is gonna take?” I ask the room. 

MJ sits down beside me and shrugs. “I dunno,” she says. “You’re the one hacking. How long do you think it’ll take?” 

“I’m guessing another five minutes,” Mr. Stark says from his position across the room. 

I jolt and look up. “What?” 

“I think we should try putting in a password,” he says. 

“Really?” Ned asks. 

Mr. Stark nods. “I mean, this is the police we’re looking at, right? I figure their password can’t be that hard.” 

“Why Stark, is that a jab at the police department?” MJ says, a smile growing on her face. 

Mr. Stark grins. 

MJ laughs out loud, then turns to me. “All right, we can keep him.” 

“Were we not going to?” I say, confused. MJ ignores me and gets out a notepad from her backpack. 

“All right, let’s figure this out,” she mutters. She begins writing possible passwords on the notepad. “Why weren’t we doing this earlier?” she says to no one. 

“I dunno. Hacking seemed simpler, until it took like, forever,” I say. “How were we supposed to know how long it would take?” 

“So we’re giving up on the whole hacking thing?” Ned questions. 

“I guess,” I reply. 

“Maybe not,” Mr. Stark muses.

I look up at him. “What?” 

“Maybe there’s two ways to go at this. We could have two teams, one hacking, the other trying to figure out the password. Whoever wins gets…” 

“A lifetime supply of books,” MJ says. 

“A new computer,” Ned interjects. 

“Both?” I say, shrugging. 

Mr. Stark grins, then says, “Deal. Let’s do this, then. Pete, you’re with me. MJ and Ned, you two figure out the password.” 

I walk over to Mr. Stark with my laptop, and he gives me a high five. “Let’s do this, kid.” 

I nod. “Yeah.” 

Soon, Mr. Stark and I are working at lightning speed, each on our own computers, hacking away. MJ and Ned are on the other side of the room with Ned’s laptop, typing in password after password. I chuckle at the options they tell each other. ‘Steve’, ‘donut’, ‘Connor’. 

“Why so many names?” I ask them from across the room. 

“We’re looking through the police department, trying to see if one of the employees’ names is the password,” MJ replies. 

“Nice.” 

“Hey, focus, Pete,” Mr. Stark says. 

“Right,” I agree with a nod. 

Mr. Stark and I go back into our work, sometimes switching computers to get a look at each other’s code. As we work, the time ticks away, and soon another hour has passed. 

“How’s it going over there?” I call to Ned and MJ. 

“Still working,” MJ says. 

“Actually, we’ve hit a wall,” Ned says. “We can’t enter any more passwords for another half hour.” 

“Yeah, we put in too many,” MJ gripes. 

“That’s what you get for trying passwords,” Mr. Stark says with a smirk. 

“Oh? And how are things going over there? I suppose you’ve hacked your way in by now?” 

He frowns in reply. 

She chuckles. 

“Come on, Mr. Stark, let’s get back to work,” I say. “I want that lifetime supply of books.” 

“You do realize that whoever wins, even if it’s us, is getting the books and computer from me? I’m the billionaire.” 

“I mean, yeah.” 

He sighs and continues working. 

Thirty minutes later, cheers erupt from the other side of the room. The noise surprises me, jolting me out of my focused zone. 

“What?” I say, wincing. 

“We got it!” MJ says, running up to me and giving me a hug. 

I frown. “Wait, really? Already?” 

“Peter, we’ve been in here for hours. What do you mean, already? Also,” she says with a look at Mr. Stark. “I’m expecting those books soon.” 

He sighs and nods. “Sure.” His voice sounds defeated, and I grin. 

I turn to MJ. “So what was the password?” 

“It was the Captain’s daughter’s birthday. You know, Captain Stacey? He has a daughter named Gwen.” 

I vaguely remember her. “Oh, yeah.” 

“So wanna look at the files?” 

A pit forms in my stomach. “Oh…I guess we can do that now.” 

MJ puts her hand on my shoulder. She doesn’t need to say anything. I know she’s here for me. 

“Are you ready, Pete?” Mr. Stark says beside me. 

“Yeah…” I trail off. I don’t know. This all seems so sudden. A minute ago, I was sure I’d never get to see those files. Now, here they are. I bite my bottom lip, then clear my throat.   
“Maybe I’d just like a minute.” Before I can stop myself, I’m running from the room. 

 

The door slams behind me, but I barely hear it. I’ve taken off down the hall, running up stairs and through hallways until I reach the roof of the compound. I expect to have the place to myself, but I bump into someone, so hard that the force of the impact sends whoever it is to the ground. 

“I’m sorry!” I say, looking down to see… “Bucky, I’m sorry.” 

He gets up and smirks. “Hey, it’s cool. You’re stronger than you look.” 

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” I rub the back of my neck. “Sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be up here.” 

“It’s cool. What’re you doing up here?” 

I open my mouth to tell him, but what comes out is a sob. His eyes widen in concern, and he bends down to look me in the eye. “Hey, kid. What’s wrong?” 

I tell him the whole story through my tears, from the hacking to getting the files open. He stands patiently and waits for me to finish. As soon as I do, he nods. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“Th-thanks.” 

“So you’re finally going to find out what happened.” 

“Looks that way.” 

“Here,” he says, stepping away. “Come sit.” He gestures to a bench a few feet away. 

“Who put that on the roof?” I ask, a little confused. 

“I did. I come up here sometimes when it’s a little too much.” 

I stop. “You uh…you do?” 

“Yep. Believe it or not, not everyone likes me here.” 

I chuckle wryly and think of Mr. Stark. “Yeah.” I sit down beside him. 

We sit in companionable silence for a few moments, listening to the birds and the wind through the trees. No quinjets are taking off or landing, and no cars are coming in, so it’s relatively quiet. 

“I’m sorry about your parents, kid.” 

“Thanks,” I say. “I’m just…I’m nervous. There are so many ‘what-ifs’, you know? What if it really was Dr. Connors? Or Mr. Osborn? Or…you?” I bow my head. “Sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay. I understand. You may have overlooked something, or someone. That’s okay. If you did, you’ll find out. That’s not a problem that can’t be fixed. And maybe it’s someone you haven’t thought about yet. But still, you’ll be okay. You believe me, right?” 

I nod, sniffling. “Yeah.” 

“Good. Then why don’t you head back down, and find out what happened?” 

I rise, wiping my cheeks. “Sorry about all this.” 

He smiles. “Hey, it’s cool. I get overwhelmed sometimes too.” 

“Really?” 

“Yep.” 

I sniff once more than turn toward the door. “Thanks again.” 

“Anytime.” 

With that, I head back down. I open the door to the lab, and everyone looks up at me. 

“Hey,” MJ says carefully. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We didn’t want to bother you. You know, if you needed space?” Ned says. “You sure you’re all right?” 

I nod. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s look at those files.”


	17. The Truth

I bite my lip and tap my foot as MJ types in the password. Her fingers move carefully over the holographic keyboard in the center of the room, and soon a screen pops into existence above her. I watch it like a hawk as a large set of files appears. God. There must be hundreds. 

“Okay, which one should we—Peter!” Mr. Stark says as I tap the first file, marked “Surveillance- 1” Surely this has to contain the footage we’re looking for. 

However, instead of the inside of a plane, what appears is a view of the outside of an airport.

“What?” I mutter. On camera, a nondescript gray car drives up, releasing two passengers before driving away. My heart thuds as I realize the two are my parents. So this was them, I think to myself. Just minutes before they died. From the worried looks on their faces and their hurried manner, I can tell they are aware of their fates. My throat tightens at the sight. How long was this after they said goodbye to me? 

“Still, this isn’t what we’re looking for,” Mr. Stark says behind me, as if reading my thoughts. Begrudgingly I nod, and exit out of the file to tap another one. A tight breath escapes me as I look at the files, and the sheer amount of them. This could take awhile. 

Twenty minutes later, Mr. Stark, MJ, Ned, and I are no closer to finding the file we want. The tension in me has only grown as the minutes pass, and by now a cold nausea has set in my body. My foot still taps and my fingers clench and unclench as I watch Ned, who has taken over by now, look through another meaningless document. 

“This is getting us nowhere,” I say finally. 

Mr. Stark looks at me. “Don’t worry, Pete. We’ll find it,” he says. 

I almost scoff. How can he expect me not to worry? This is my parents’ killer we’re looking for. The person who robbed me of a normal life. I’m going to find out who it was and when I do I’ll—

What? What will I do? I take a breath. That’s a question I can answer later. For now…

“Guys,” Ned says, pointing to the screen. My heart jumps into my throat. 

The inside of a private plane stares down at me, ominous and strangely empty. Sets of seat line the edges, instead of the normal seats that all face front. But I don’t understand. Where are my parents? 

Wait, there they are. They walk on screen and take their seats, facing each other, one on each side of the plane. My chest tightens when a third person appears. Oh. Just the flight attendant. My chest loosens. He serves my parents drinks, then takes a seat at the far end of the cabin. My parents don’t touch their beverages. After several moments of small talk between my parents, the plane takes off. No one speaks for awhile after that. But then the flight attendant says, 

“I trust you know there’s no escape.”

A cold bolt of lightning shoots down my spine. It was this guy? 

My mother shoots him a cool glance. “He’ll never get his hands on our research. Surely he knows that.” I smile at the bravery in her voice. “Besides, even if he did, he couldn’t read it.”   
The attendant chuckles. “Stupid woman. No regard for your own safety.” 

My father gives her a glance, then looks to the attendant. “We know what you’re planning,” he says. “We will have no part in it. Do what you will with us, but we will not help you make soldiers.” 

The attendant frowns, then reaches into his jacket. I gasp when he pulls out a gun. 

“Oh god, this is it,” I whisper. MJ grabs my hand and threads our fingers together. I steel myself for the worst. But I don’t dare close my eyes. 

The screen goes black. 

A voice begins speaking. “Someone’s been looking around,” it says, deep and distorted. 

For a second, I can’t see I’m so livid. My blood runs hot and fast. My muscles shake, and my pulse pounds in my ears. I was so close. Who the fuck wants to keep me from finding out what happened to my parents? This has to be the same person who sent those guys after me, trying to end my life. Why? What the hell is the reason? 

“Who are you?” I spit, voice harsh. MJ gives me a worried sideways glance. “What do you want with me?” 

“Patience, patience. All will be answered in good time.” 

I take a quivering breath. As if that’ll calm me down now. “Just show yourself.” 

“Peter,” Mr. Stark says behind me. “It’s okay.” 

I whip around and glare at him. “How the fuck is this okay? This is probably my parents’ killer! The guy who hired someone to kill them.” I turn back to the black screen. “So come out. I’m ready for you.” 

The voice laughs, a disturbing sound that shakes my core. “I don’t think so.” 

“Why not?” 

“Against me? You wouldn’t last five minutes.” 

“Wanna bet?” I growl. 

The voice sighs. “Young people are always so impatient. Your parents at least had some dignity.” 

I ball my hands into fists so tight I can feel my nails cutting into my skin. “So you did do it,” I whisper. Whoever this is, they killed my parents. They took everything from me. 

“Yes.” 

“Well,” I say, voice tightly calm. “I’m gonna find you. And I’m—” 

“You’ll what? Kill me?” 

I freeze. I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t think. Right? Do I even know anymore? 

“Who knows?” I say. 

The voice laughs again. “You don’t have it in you. You’re a child.” 

“Well at least I’m not a coward who hides behind a screen.” 

Several moments of silence pass. “It’s high time I got rid of you myself, isn’t it?” the voice says, as if to itself. 

MJ grabs my arm. “Peter? Let’s turn it off,” she says, voice small. 

“So it’ll go away? But I have to keep talking to it. Maybe we can pinpoint its location,” I say. 

“I’ve tried,” Mr. Stark says. “It’s blocking the signal.” 

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. I turn back to the screen, and raise my voice. “I don’t know who you are, but you had my parents murdered. Don’t think I’m going to stop looking for you.” I turn to MJ. “Let’s turn it off.” 

She nods, and reaches to turn the screen off. As soon as it’s gone, I drop to my knees, grab one of the pillows on the floor, and release a guttural scream into it. In a second I drop the pillow, panting. 

Mr. Stark kneels down beside me. “It’s going to be okay, Pete,” he says softly. 

“We were so close,” I say, voice breaking. 

“I know…I know.” 

I’m about to lean in for a hug, then a thought occurs to me. “You know who might be able to help us?” I say, straightening. “Mr. Osborn.” 

“I don’t know, Peter—” 

 

“But think about it. He’s close with the government, with the police. He might be able to get us the files.” I rise to my feet. “We should go.” 

“Tonight?” MJ asks. 

“Why not? I’m sure he’ll be willing to talk.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, and dial Mr. Osborn’s number. In a moment he picks up. “Hello?” I say. 

“Peter?” Mr. Osborn says. “What is it?” 

“I need your help. Could you help me access some police files?” 

“Of course. Would you like to drop by Oscorp? I’m still in my office.” 

I nod. “Yeah, that sounds good. If you wouldn’t mind.” 

“Not at all.” 

“Thank you,” I say earnestly. “I’ll be there in a few hours.” 

“I’ll see you then.” 

A bubble of excitement wells in my chest. The Mr. Osborn wants to help me access these files. 

“Can you take me?” I say, looking up at Mr. Stark. 

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he replies, running a hand through his hair. “You might not like what you find.” 

“Please? I’m ready for it.” 

He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he says, “Fine. But we won’t stay long.” 

“That’s okay. This shouldn’t take too much time.” 

He nods, and walks toward the door. I follow him, a bounce in my step. MJ and Ned approach behind me. I might actually find out what happened to my parents tonight.


	18. Home

Moments later, MJ, Ned, Mr. Stark, Happy and I are all piling into a car in the garage. We find the biggest car we can, a large SUV. Happy takes the driver’s seat, while Mr. Stark takes the passenger. MJ and I sit in the middle, and Ned takes one of the back seats. Happy is just starting the car when there’s a knock on my window. I jump, and look out to see…

“May we come?” Mr. Rogers asks. Mr. Wilson and Bucky stand on either side of him. Mr. Stark rolls down his window and says, 

“No.” 

“Wait,” I say. “Can they?” 

Mr. Stark turns and looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “Really? You want them to come?” 

I nod. “Please?” 

He sighs. “Sure. Let ‘em in.” 

I open the door, and the three men pile in. It’s a bit of a squeeze, with Mr. Rogers, Mr. Wilson, and Bucky all squeezing into the back. Ned ends up sitting in the middle seat between MJ and I. I turn and look at Mr. Rogers. 

“So um…why’d you wanna come?” 

He swallows. “Buck told me you were nervous. About finding out what happened. He thought you could use the moral support.” 

My breath catches in my throat. “Thank you.” My eyes sting, and I blink away tears. I turn back to the window so no one will see. Ned puts his hand on my arm and squeezes a little. I give him a grateful smile. 

Happy starts the car again, and soon we’re rolling down the highway toward the city. My breath shakes, and I keep balling my hands into fists then releasing them again. MJ leans forward and looks at me. Her eyes are filled with determination, rather than concern. Her resolve bolsters my own, and I take a deep breath. 

“Why don’t we go over what we have?” MJ asks. 

I turn to her. “Huh?” 

“Let’s just go over what we have. It might help?” 

I shrug. “Sure.” 

“What?” Mr. Rogers asks from the back.

I turn and look at him. “Well uh, we’ve compiled some evidence, I guess. We’re trying to figure out who did it, but…” Nothing so far. I hate that we still don’t know. 

“Evidence? Like what?” Mr. Wilson says. 

MJ, Ned and I look at each other. “Well uh, we found the files from the police.” I gulp. “And we saw somebody there with my parents. He had…a gun.” I bow my head. “We never found out what happened. I mean, I know what happened, they died, but…” 

Silence reigns in the car for several moments. Finally Mr. Wilson looks at me and says, 

“I’m really sorry, kid. But we’ll find out what happened.” 

“Thank you. That…that means a lot.” I turn back to the front. I take a deep breath through my nose. My heart pound in my chest, threatening to break out. This car can’t go fast enough. I want to find out what happened more than anything. I want to find out who took my parents from me, and then I’m going to destroy them. 

The aggressive nature of my thoughts surprises me. But I can’t help it. I’ve never been this angry about anything, ever. I’ve never hated anyone more than I hate this mystery killer. Because they took my parents from me. They took a normal life from me. My family. I could’ve grown up with parents, and maybe I would’ve had a younger sibling, even. That future was robbed from me. Instead, here I am, hunting down my parents’ killer. I’m going to catch them. And I’m going to obliterate them. 

My thoughts drift to B.A.R.F, and what I saw. It was incredible, just to get a look at my parents. I remember them now, because of that. I remember their smiles, and how we’d make pancakes every Saturday morning. My dad would let me mess around with the football, knowing that I wasn’t yet old enough to truly play the sport. He thought that one day I would. He could never have predicted what was going to happen to me. 

And my mother. She would sing me a lullaby every night. She would hum “Clair de Lune”, a French piano piece. And she could play the piano. I remember that too. Her favorite piece to play was “Heroes” by David Bowie. Man, could she sing. My eyes water at the thought of her playing that particular song. What would she think of me now, now that I’m a hero? Would she be proud of me? 

I wipe my eyes, and sniffle. Before anyone can ask me what’s wrong, I plug in my headphones, and take out my phone. I press play on “Home” by Vince Staples and Richie Kohan. I close my eyes and let the lyrics wash over me. 

This morning I woke up, in a fortress of distortion   
I’m at war with my emotions, I’m at war with they enforcement   
Tryna fight for what’s right and got sidetracked  
Where your mind at? Nevermind that 

I close my eyes tight as I listen to the lyrics, noticing that they fit my life a little too well. Where even is my head these days? I’m not entirely sure I know. But the next lyrics make my eyes sting with unshed tears. 

I’m coming home now  
I’m coming home   
Right where I belong now  
Right where I belong 

I suppose this whole journey has been about coming home. I’m trying to find the home that was stolen from me. I grit my teeth. 

I feel a tap on my shoulder. I remove an earbud, and look up to see MJ and Ned looking at me. 

“Peter…” MJ starts. “Are you okay?” 

I wipe my eyes. “Yeah. Fine.” 

She gives me a flat look. “Don’t you dare lie to me.” 

“Okay,” I say, holding my hands up in surrender. “So I’m all torn up inside, so what? It’s not like I’m trying to find out my parents’ killer or anything.” 

She glares at my sharp tone. Ned flinches. 

“Sorry,” I say, looking down. Her gaze softens. Ned gives me a little smile. “I’m just gonna be happy when this is all over.” 

“Peter…” Mr. Stark says from the front. “You do know this isn’t going to bring them back, right?” 

“What?” 

“Your parents. They’re not coming back.”

I look down, biting my lip so hard it bleeds. “I know,” I finally say after several moments of silence. “But still…” 

Mr. Rogers speaks up from the back. “Kid, I admire your grit, but he’s right. Once this mystery is solved, you won’t be able to go back.” 

I sigh, and slouch in my seat. “And I know that. But I still want to know.” 

Mr. Rogers looks at me, and I shiver at the intensity of his stare. “And I’m going to do my best to help you,” he says. “We all are.” 

That, at least, gets me to smile. “Thank you, Mr. Rogers,” I say. 

He smiles back. “Call me Steve.” 

My jaw drops, but I put it back in place before anyone notices. “Uh, sure. Yeah, okay,” I say. MJ chuckles. 

Suddenly my phone rings. I pick up after seeing that it’s Mr. Osborn calling. 

“Hello?” I say into the phone. 

“Peter,” he says warmly. “Are you on your way?” 

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just taking awhile to get there. Coming from a long way away, you know.” 

“Of course. I’m excited for your visit. I have something special for you.” 

I grin. “Awesome. Can’t wait.” 

“I’ll see you shortly then, Mr. Parker.” 

“See you soon, sir.” I hang up. 

Mr. Stark looks at me. “Was that Osborn?” 

“Yeah.” 

He narrows his eyes. “I never did like that guy.” 

I chuckle. “I know, you only say that every chance you get.” 

“It’s true!” he says. “That guy isn’t right.” 

“I think he’s just fine,” I say, a bit defensively. 

“I’m just warning you, Peter.” 

“Well, there’s nothing to warn me about. It’s fine,” I snap. 

The car falls silent after that. Mr. Stark shrugs tightly, and turns back to the front. The rest of the ride passes in the same quiet, until we’re rolling up to Oscorp tower. 

All of us pile out except Happy. “I’ll be back to get you guys later,” he says. “Be safe.” 

“Sure.” I wave as he drives away. 

After that, I walk up to the doors. They open for us, though this place probably closed a while ago. The whole place is mostly dark as we walk through to the central elevator. 

“Creepy,” Ned mutters. 

“Hey, it’s fine,” I say. Because it is fine. There are still a few lights on. 

That’s when I feel something on the back of my neck. Consciously, I know there’s nothing there, but I know this feeling. 

My spider sense is warning me. 

But that doesn’t make any sense, I tell myself. There’s nothing to be afraid of here. It’s probably just me freaking out cause it’s a little dark. It’s fine. 

It’s fine. 

I walk forward toward the elevator, and we all get in. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze, but we manage to all fit. 

We ride in silence up towards the top floor. MJ grips my hand and threads our fingers together. I look her in the eyes, startled to see apprehension there. 

“You okay?” I ask. 

She nods. “Yeah. But still. Be careful, okay?” 

“I will. What’s there to be afraid of?” 

“Right.” She turns away. 

When we arrive on Mr. Osborn’s floor, I’m almost blinded by the bright lights that are still on, in contrast to the darkness of the floors below. And my spider sense is screaming at me. 

“Hello?” I call. “Mr. Osborn?” 

“Oh, Peter.” A voice comes from down the hall. “I’m glad you made it. Come on in.” 

I take the lead as my friends and I walk down the hall. Our footsteps echo on the hardwood floors. As soon as we arrive at Osborn’s office, I see him. 

“Mr. Osborn!” I say. I wave to him. He’s crouched behind his desk, and I hear papers shuffling. I look on the desk and see the double zero files. “Mr. Osborn?” I ask. 

“Oh, Peter. Hello.” 

“You all right?” 

“Yes, quite. In fact, I feel wonderful.” He rises. I frown. He’s wearing a dark green ribbed bodysuit, and he’s grinning. A wild grin that sends shivers down my spine. 

“Nice outfit,” I say. “Everything okay?” 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Well, I just figured, you said you had something special for me. It’s about my parents, right?”

“Yes, yes. Now, if your friends wouldn’t mind standing back…” 

He raises a hand, and in it he holds a small device with a button. Suddenly the doors slam shut behind me, blocking me from the rest of my group. 

I gasp, turning back to Mr. Osborn. 

“What’s going on?” I say in a soft voice. 

“Peter, Peter. Surely you can’t be that stupid.” He shakes his head. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you were going to be bringing friends here. That was a bit of a surprise. But I can accomplish my goal simply enough.” 

“Goal?” I frown. 

He gives me a flat look, then smiles. “Simple. I killed Richard and Mary Parker, and now…” Before I can process his words, he holds up a device shaped like…a pumpkin? “Now, I’m gonna kill you.” 

He throws the device. 

It explodes.


	19. The Green Goblin

For several seconds, I can’t see. I can’t think. My vision is black. My entire body aches, parts of me burning with pain. And maybe with actual fire, I can’t tell. But all that goes through my mind is: 

What the hell? 

When my vision finally clears, I’m staring at the ceiling of Norman Osborn’s office. A high-pitched ringing fills my ears. I rest against the door to his office. I wince as I try to move. Distantly I hear voices calling for me from the other side of the door. I think I recognize Mr. Stark and MJ. 

Groaning, I raise myself onto my elbows. 

“Ah, so you’re still alive. That’s impressive.” A voice comes to me as if through a tunnel.

Lightning fast, I turn to see Norman Osborn standing over me. He has a wicked smirk on his face. I freeze at the sight of him. The man who killed my parents. 

How did I not see it before? 

I bare my teeth at him, just to let him know I feel. His smirk just grows. He leans down and grabs the front of my shirt, lifting me up off the floor to stare at him. My feet dangle off the ground as he grips me. My whole body screams in protest, and maybe I scream too. I still can’t hear very well. 

Then Mr. Osborn tosses me towards the door. I crash into it, letting out another cry. 

“Peter!” I hear someone yell from the other side. Mr. Rogers this time. 

I’m okay, I want to tell him. But I’m not. I’m hurting and crying, and everything burns. I can still barely see. 

Enough to see Mr. Osborn pull another bomb from his weird utility belt. 

“Oh, well,” he says. I think my hearing is coming back, because I can hear him perfectly. “This’ll finish you off.” 

My spider-sense screams at me, and I manage to get my body to move. I duck out of the way of the blast. I’m thrown forwards however, slamming against the doors once again. Damn, what are these things made out of? Something indestructible obviously. 

I lay against the floor now, my back burning. I raise myself to my hands and knees, coughing. That’s not a good sign. 

“You just don’t die easy, do you?” Mr. Osborn says. 

Finally, I stand and face him. My limbs shake as I say, “It’s…it’s gonna take more than you’ve got to get rid of me.” 

“Cocky one, aren’t you?” He narrows his eyes. “Well, I’ll soon fix that.” 

“We’ll see,” I say between coughs. God, this isn’t looking good. I can barely stand. This guy has never looked healthier. Well, except for that fact that his eye is twitching, and he’s got a crazed grin. He just looks insane. Which only makes me shiver harder. 

Mr. Osborn sneers. “What can a kid do against me?” 

He stalks forward, hand outstretched. Without warning, he grabs the front of my shirt again. This time though, he doesn’t toss me toward the indestructible doors. 

No. This time he throws me at the windows. 

I scream as I hit the windows. They instantly shatter under my weight. 

Before I know it, I’m outside in the cold New York air. Then…I’m falling. 

I’ve never fallen from this height before. Well, except for when the Vulture dropped me. But right now I’m falling from a freaking sky scraper. Without my suit. 

I yell as I fly through the air, hands over my ears. As if that’ll help me. Nothing can help me now. I’m about to die and I don’t have my suit. I don’t have my—

My webshooters. 

I slam my wrists together, the bracelets I always keep on morphing into webshooters. I shoot a web towards the building. As soon as it hits, I arc my fall so I’m no longer falling down, but sideways. I fly towards the building until I hit it, letting my fingers and feet stick to the surface. 

For several seconds, I sit there, panting. The wind bites at my face, but I don’t care. I’m alive. I’m actually alive. 

But there’s still a bad guy to take down. I don’t have time to hesitate here. 

Gritting my teeth, I begin my climb up the building. I climb towards the window I just fell out of. It doesn’t take long to reach it, and soon I’m climbing through the broken glass back into the office. 

The place looks like a hurricane came through it. Papers are scattered all around, and a bookcase has fallen over, its contents littering the floor. There are burn marks from the bombs, and some of the wood paneling is…actually on fire. The desk is burning up. 

And there stands Mr. Osborn, staring at me like I’ve just come back from the dead. 

“How?” he spits out. “You should be dead.” 

Panting, I rise to my feet. I grip my hands into fists. When I do, his eyes go to my wrists. His eyes widen. 

Then he starts laughing. 

He laughs long and hard. This guy’s gotta be insane. He bends over, placing a hand on his side. 

“Oh, that’s just rich,” he says when he finally calms down. “Peter Parker, the city’s protector. The one and only Spider-man.” He takes a step toward me. “That just makes this all the sweeter.” 

Before he can do anything, I web the nearest bookcase and fling it at him with all the strength I have left. 

He shouts, falling down to his knees. Wood and books clatter around him, some catching on fire from the desk. 

He looks at me and growls. I shudder. 

“You little bastard,” he says in a low voice. “You think you can take me down?” 

“I’m gonna try,” I say, lowering myself into a defensive stance.

He just raises his eyebrows. “Well,” he says. “You’re certainly much harder to kill than they were. Then again, I suppose they were defenseless.” 

“What?”

“Your parents, you imbecile.”

I freeze. My fists begin shaking. That’s right. This man killed my parents. “How could you?” I say, voice quivering as bad as my body. “They trusted you.” 

He grins and shrugs. “They were in my way.” 

“In your way?” I say, voice laced with a growl. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Them and their research. Don’t you see, it’s weaponizable. Imagine what perfect soldiers we could make with the strength of the animal kingdom.” He rises to his feet, gesturing wildly with his hands. “A man as fast as a cheetah, as strong as a lion, with the regenerative abilities of a lizard. Could you imagine?” His smile grows wider. And then it dawns on me.   
“You never wanted it for the soldiers,” I say softly. “You just wanted it for yourself.” 

His eyes widen and he bares his teeth. “Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, child.” 

“Peter!” A voice suddenly comes from behind the door. Mr. Stark! I straighten at the sound of his voice. “What’s happening in there?” 

“I’m handling it,” I shout back. 

“Oh, are your friends here?” Osborn says in a mocking tone. “I’m sure I’ll get rid of them just as easily as your—” 

“If you say my parents one more time, I’ll—” 

“You’ll what?” he says. “Kill me? Oh, please. We both know you don’t have it in you. You’re too much of a coward.” 

My breath comes out of me in bursts. I stand on the balls of my feet, ready to spring. Because this man took everything from me. My parents. A normal life. 

“I don’t have to answer to you,” I say. “But you’re going to pay for what you did to my mom and dad.” 

“Oh, really?” he says with a lopsided grin. “Why do you bother to avenge them? They were nothing.” 

Suddenly my vision tunnels. I bare my teeth, and a guttural growl comes out of my mouth. 

Before I can stop myself, I web his chest, then yank him towards me. I spin around, taking him with me. Then I release him. Right into the doors. 

His weight combined with my strength shatters them. 

He lands on his back amid the pieces of the doors. He groans in pain, but I can’t hear it. All I can hear is my blood pounding in my ears. The voices of my parents in the memories that B.A.R.F. showed me. The parents who should be here now, but aren’t, because of this monster. 

“Peter!” MJ’s voice comes to me as if through water. I can see her now, staring at me with wide eyes. I can see all of them, everyone from Steve to Bucky to Mr. Stark. The sound of MJ’s voice briefly cuts through the fog of my fury. But only for a moment. Because Osborn looks up at me, and my vision focuses on him. 

“You think your little friends can get rid of me?” he says. He coughs. 

“I think we can take you,” Mr. Stark says, holding up a repulsor glove. He aims it right at Osborn’s chest. Steve holds up his shield, and Bucky raises a fist. MJ and Ned stand back, holding onto the wall behind them for comfort. 

“You know…funny thing about bombs,” Osborn says. “You can fill them with all sorts of things. Like smoke.” 

Mr. Stark yells for everyone to get back, and Osborn removes a bomb from his belt. He throws it to the ground. Smoke fills the room before anyone can move.

NO, my mind screams at me. Don’t let him escape! 

But I can’t see a thing. Smoke fills every bit of my vision, getting into my mouth and nose and making me cough. No, I think furiously. I can’t let this happen. But I can’t see. How the hell am I supposed to catch him? 

Then I catch a whiff of something. Sweat. Fear. A jolt of understanding rushes through me. I have enhanced senses. Duh, I can catch him without needing to see. I take a step forward, following the scent. I follow it, walking faster and faster. I hit a wall, but turn and continue down what must be the hallway. The smoke is beginning to clear here, so far from the original bomb. 

Then I see it. A flicker of a shadow. 

Without another thought, I shoot a web at it and drag it towards me. Before I know it, I’m face to face with Norman Osborn once again. 

“Guys!” I shout. “I caught him!” 

I don’t wait for Mr. Stark’s affirmation before lifting Osborn up by the collar to stare at his widening eyes. 

“You killed my parents,” I say through gritted teeth. “You took everything from me. My family. My life.” 

“Peter,” someone says behind me. I turn and see…MJ? Her eyes are wide and red, and she stares at me in confusion. “What are you doing?” 

I look back to Osborn. He smirks. I look back to MJ. Then back to Osborn. What am I doing? Am I going to kill him? Is that who I am now? 

Osborn laughs, long and loud. As the smoke clears, the other Avengers appear beside me. I realize we’re in the wide atrium area of Osborn’s offices. 

“Come on, Peter,” Mr. Stark says behind me. “Let’s bring him in.” 

Shaking, I nod. I release Osborn before I can do anything else that I might regret. 

That’s when Osborn touches two switches on his wrists. I frown. But I don’t act soon enough. A knife comes out of one wrist. Flame begins shooting out of the other, in a wide circle that surrounds Osborn and me. Separating me from the others. Then the knife comes in and stabs me in the stomach.


	20. Say it Out Loud Now, Are You Ready for War?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are all amazing! Thanks so much for keeping up with this fic as it's been written. I know many of you came here from Point of No Return, and for that, I thank you even more. Thanks for keeping up with me as a fic author. I appreciate it more than you know! Without further ado, I present the last chapter of Peter Parker's Guide to Solving Mysteries!

Darkness. Endless shadow. All I can feel is a dull pain in my abdomen. And I can’t see a thing. 

“Peter.” 

No…I don’t want to wake up yet.

“Peter.” 

Please. Let me sleep. I don’t want to go back to the real world. 

“Peter…wake up.” 

And yet…I know that voice. Mom? 

“Peter!” 

No. Not Mom. MJ. MJ! 

I wake up with a gasp, seeing at first nothing but flames. I slap a hand to my abdomen, where blood pours out. I turn, and see MJ’s face staring at me through the fire. Her eyes are wide and frightened. 

I’m frightened too. 

Because on my other side, inside the circle of fire, stands Norman Osborn. I must have not been out for very long, because he’s still got the bloody knife jutting out of his wrist. The sight fills me with a cold fear. Still, I stumble to my feet. 

“Would you look at that?” Osborn says with a grin. “He’s still kicking. Guess it’s pretty hard to kill a spider, huh?” 

I bare my teeth but cough wetly. The cough probably isn’t a good sign. I need to get out of here. Or at the very least, I need some help. 

“Mr. Stark!” I call. 

“Coming!” he says from beyond the flames. “No one brought their suits, kid.” 

Fuck. So I guess I’m alone. 

I gasp as Osborn moves in with a punch, which hits me square in the jaw. The force of the blow sends me reeling backward. I barely manage to stop myself from falling into the circle of fire. I somehow manage to stay on my feet. But I can’t keep this up forever. 

“Peter, Peter,” Osborn says. “After I’m done with you, you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to take all your little friends and kill them, one…by…one.” With those last three words, he punches me, one time for each word. Once in the gut, another in the arm, and last in the face again. The blows send me falling to my knees, then onto the floor. I lay on my side, staring into the fire. 

He’s going to kill my friends. Mr. Stark, Steve, Bucky, MJ, and Ned. And probably May too. My friends…

No. Not my friends. 

They're my family. 

Gritting my teeth, I raise myself up to my knees. Then, to my feet. I stare at Norman Osborn with hatred in my soul. This man lied to me, distracted me. Because that’s what all of my parent’s research was, that he was trying to show me. He was trying to distract me. It all makes sense now. With shaking hands, I web the cut in my stomach. That’ll hold the bleeding for now. At least, it’ll hold it long enough that I can finish this. 

When Osborn tries to move in with another punch, I catch it in my hand. He looks, startled, from my hand to my face. I just sneer and throw him. He slams into the ground about twenty feet away, near the edge of the flames. Before he can make any moves, I web an expensive vase nearby and fling it at him. He shouts when it crashes into him, leaving bleeding cuts all over his face and suit. But it’s not enough. He gets back up, staring at me with all the hatred I myself feel. 

And then the fight begins. 

He moves in with punches, kicks, and I block them all. Mentally I thank Black Widow for teaching me martial arts. Once he nearly hits my face, but I manage to duck under the hit and ram into him with a kick of my own. I hit him square in the stomach, right where he stabbed me. He stumbles backward, the wind knocked out of him for the moment. 

I stop, catching my breath for a second, and that’s my mistake. Because he moves in faster than I can track, kicking me right in my stab wound. I cry out, falling backwards and smacking my head on the floor. Stars fill my vision, but when my sight clears, Osborn stands over me once again. 

“You little fool,” he says through gritted teeth. “You could have just let yourself be killed and made this easier on yourself. Now all your friends will have to die too.” He says this last part with more than a little bit of satisfaction. 

“You won’t be killing them on my watch,” I say, slowly getting to my feet. “I protect this city. And everyone in it.” I pause. “Well, everyone except you.” 

I punch him, hitting him right in the face. He goes down, but gets to his feet in a moment. Before he can react, I grab the front of his suit and hold him up a foot in the air. 

“You killed my parents,” I growl. “You threatened to kill my family that’s still alive.” I reach onto his wrist and snap off the blade, flipping it so it’s pointed towards his heart. My parents’ faces flicker through my mind. The strength of my mother’s smile. The kindness of my father’s laugh. All gone now.

Osborn chuckles. “We both know you don’t have it in you.” 

“Wanna bet?” I grind out. I think about pushing the blade in. But my arm won't move. 

“Peter!” A voice snaps me out of whatever trance I was in. I turn to see Mr. Stark holding a fire extinguisher, a shocked look on his face. 

I turn back to Osborn, seeing the blade in my hand and the panic on the man’s face. I drop him to the ground, letting the blade fall as well. I stumble backward.  
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “What the hell was I doing?” 

Just as the first tear begins to fall, I’m struck on both sides by two bodies crashing into me. I yelp, but then realize it’s Ned and MJ, hugging me as tight as they can. I quickly return the hug, crying into Ned’s shoulder. I was about to kill a man. I never want to be in the position ever again. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” MJ whispers, her voice shaking with her own tears. “We’re here for you now.” 

I nod, and squeeze her and Ned tighter. “I couldn’t do it,” I say, voice muffled by Ned’s shirt. 

“Good,” Ned and MJ say at the same time. 

“Yeah,” someone says, and the three of us part to see Mr. Stark walking up to us. He puts a hand on my shoulder. 

“I’m glad you didn’t kill him,” he says. He looks over, and shows me Bucky and Steve restraining Osborn. 

“I guess he’ll be going to prison for a long time,” I say. 

“Oh, yeah,” Mr. Stark agrees. 

“And…I get that hurting him won’t bring my parents back. Nothing will.” My voice breaks as I speak. “But I’ve got a new family. So thanks.” I give Mr. Stark a little smile. 

He blinks, then grins. “Of course, kiddo.” 

“So after this, can we go home? Please? I’m so tired. I feel like I could sleep for a week.” 

He chuckles. “Yeah. You can sleep as long as you want to.” 

 

\---- 

Weeks later, I stand I front of my parents’ and Ben’s graves at the cemetery. Several of the Avengers stand behind me, as well as Ned, MJ, and May. We decided to have a second funeral, since finding Mom and Dad’s killer brought up a lot of old emotions. 

“Mom…Dad…” I begin. “Hey. It’s Peter. I know it’s been awhile. I didn’t used to come to visit you a lot, before…all this happened. But I have some good news. We got Osborn. He’s never gonna hurt anyone again.” I gulp. “And…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never came to visit you, because I didn’t think I remembered you. I was so caught up in everything else that I just forgot you existed. But you raised me for the first four years of my life. Thank you. Thanks for…everything.” I swallow thickly. “But I’m not by myself. So, you don’t have to worry about me.” I feel a hand squeeze mine, and I know it’s MJ without having to look. “I’ve got a real big family. May still takes care of me. And, you know Tony Stark? Well, of course you’d know him. And the Avengers. Well…I guess you weren’t around when they saved New York. But they help me now. I’m kind of a superhero, I guess. I mean, I go around in Mr. Stark’s suit he made me—” 

“Kind of?” May says with a laugh behind me. “I know my nephew is a real superhero.” 

Heat flushes my cheeks, and I grin lopsidedly. “That’s all from me, for now. I wanna visit more often. Sorry I haven’t done that. I promise I’ll…well, you get it.” My grin fades, and I say softly, “Love you.” 

A hand settles on my shoulder. I turn to see Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Rhodes. 

“Hey, guys,” I say. “I’m all set to go, if you are.” 

Ms. Romanoff smiles and says, “Well, I’m glad you got to have this. I’m sure your parents would be proud of you.” 

My throat closes up a little at that. I give her a smile. 

“Come on, Pete,” Mr. Stark calls from behind them. “Let’s go home.” 

I nod. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”


End file.
